You're WHAT?
by Lady Ebony
Summary: BV How is Vegeta going to take the news that he is going to be a father...again? Take a glimpse into the Vegeta-Briefs home to find out what happened during the ten years after Majin Buu's defeat. COMPLETE
1. The Night That Started It All

Hello everyone!  Here is my newest creation.  I've always wondered what happened after Buu, especially within the home of the Vegeta-Briefs.  More particularly, I've always been fascinated by how Bra came to be.  The age difference between Trunks and Bra has always led me to believe that Bra was sort of an accident, for lack of a better word.  Well, here is my take on how Bra came into the world.  I hope you enjoy it and please remember to REVIEW!

DBZ….yeah, I don't know it.

**YOU'RE WHAT?!**

            Bulma gazed at the man who slept next to her, delighting in the opportunity to study his peaceful visage.  Normally, Vegeta was up hours before she would awaken.  He always wanted to get a few good hours of training in before coming to have breakfast with his family.  Bulma smiled at that thought.  Her prince charming was definitely a different man than he was a year ago before the whole Buu incident occurred.  True, Vegeta still held onto his tough exterior, it was the only way he knew how to present himself to the world, but here in the sanctity of their own home he was a little more expressive of his feelings toward Trunks and herself.  Now it wasn't anything obvious, Vegeta certainly never spoke of his love out loud, and any outside observer would probably comment on how unloving Vegeta was toward his family; however, anyone that knew of Vegeta's past and of his struggles to understand his emotions would notice the tremendous change in his behavior and treasure it as she did.  

To Bulma, a woman that had lived with the Saiyan Prince for 11 years and had the privilege of witnessing his slow transformation over the years, the little things he did now touched her so very deeply.  For instance, everyday he made it a habit to come in and eat every meal with Trunks and herself, he would occasionally take Trunks to the park, he made it a point to tell Trunks how proud he was of him, and sometimes Vegeta would ruffle his hair and joke about its ridiculous color.  Towards her, Vegeta was definitely more affectionate.   She couldn't tell you how many times he would "accidentally" brush against her when she was working on something, whether it was in her lab or cleaning up after a meal.  He remarked more often about how beautiful she was and seemed to have a new fondness for caressing her cheek with his hand as a sign of farewell when he was leaving to go somewhere, usually to the Gravity Room.

Bulma smiled again as she thought of how Vegeta still reacted around their friends.  If anyone was around that may catch a glimpse of his "softer" side, Vegeta would bottle it all up inside and have no physical contact with his family and there would definitely be no compliments coming from him.  He would not ignore them or anything mind you, but he certainly wasn't going to go out of his way to show any type of feelings.  However, even around the rest of the gang, Vegeta was not as harsh as he once was.  In fact, at times she truly thought he enjoyed their get togethers.  It was just that Vegeta was Vegeta, showing any kind of fondness towards others in public was taboo and it always would be in his book. 

Reaching out, Bulma lightly ran her hand down the side of his face and traced his lips with her fingers.  She closed her eyes and sighed with happiness.  Dende, how she loved this man, and although he had never said the words to her, she knew that he loved her as much as she did him.  Vegeta stirred slightly, a small almost-smile upon his lips.  Bulma gently kissed his forehead and started stroking his hair, right before she let out a surprised yelp.  Two muscular arms had wrapped around her waist and pulled her on top of her lover in the blink of an eye.  Bulma looked down into the amused eyes of her husband and she pouted her lips.

"I thought you were asleep," she said in a low voice, disappointment clearly evident.

"And you are disappointed that I am not?  I'd hate to think what you were planning woman."  Vegeta replied with a smirk.  

"I wasn't planning anything!"  Bulma clipped out in mock anger.  It was Vegeta's turn to act disappointed.

"You weren't planning anything?  How disappointing" He responded sexily and he gently kissed Bulma's lips.  "I guess I'll just go on back to sleep."  Then as an afterthought he added: "If everything is alright that is; why are you up Bulma?  I don't even wake up for at least another three hours."  The woman on his chest sighed and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Don't worry Vegeta, nothing is wrong.  I just couldn't sleep and so I was just partaking in a favorite pastime of mine."  Bulma said with a small smile before kissing his shoulder.

"And what pastime is that?"  Vegeta asked, his hand rubbing up and down her back.  Bulma looked up at Vegeta and kissed his nose, something she knew bothered him to no end.  She truly had no idea why.

"Watching my sweet prince sleep of course."  She said, mischief clearly seen in her eyes.  Vegeta's eyes, however, closed off and looked as cold as ice.  Bulma tilted her head in confusion as she caught on to his instantaneous change in demeanor.

"So, there is someone else that you desire," Vegeta said in an emotionless voice.  "I know for a fact you weren't referring to me.  I'm not, nor will I ever be, _sweet_."  Vegeta spit out the last word as though it pained him to speak it.  Bulma immediately smacked the man below her in the arm.

"You are such a dork, Vegeta.  I thought something was seriously the matter for a second!"  She said with a small laugh, hitting him again for good measure.  Vegeta was now smirking at his mate.

"You are much to easy to bait, woman.  It amazes me every time."

"It's not my fault you have a sadistic sense of humor."  Bulma said in a sulky voice.  Vegeta's eyebrow rose in amused surprise.

"I'm the one with a sadistic sense of humor?  I don't think so.  I do remember a joke you played on me on that silly human holiday where you purposely go out and fool people."

"April Fools' Day"  Bulma supplied the day for her husband.

"Whatever."  Vegeta dismissed her help with a wave of his hand.  "As I was saying, wasn't it you who got me all worked up thinking you were pregnant?" 

Bulma started to laugh and then quickly covered her mouth as she saw the look on her mate's face.  He did not like being made a fool of, regardless of how funny, and harmless, the practical joke was.  "Oh come on Vegeta, it was only a simple prank.  I will never forget the look on your face.  You haven't made a face like that since we found out about Trunks!  It was hilarious."

"Oh hardy-har-har."  Vegeta said sarcastically, and Bulma giggled.  She loved it when Vegeta used what he called, "ridiculous Earth phrases".  It was in those times that she felt he was truly becoming fully adjusted to life here on his adopted home planet.  The blue-haired scientist quickly moved in for a kiss and stopped Vegeta from the rest of his discussion over who had the most evil sense of humor.  Vegeta wrapped his arms around his mate's waist, effectively pinning her to his chest and rolled over.  Bulma gasped at the pleasant surprise of finding herself now below her prince.  What could she say?  It was her favorite place to be.  Bulma placed her hands on either side of Vegeta's face and pulled him close for another kiss, moaning slightly as his hand caressed her thigh.  Vegeta broke the kiss and looked down at his wife with lustful eyes.

"I can't believe you had the audacity to wake me up," he purred and started kissing down her neck.

"So you were asleep!"  Bulma gasped out through her quickening breaths.  "Good, I'd hate to think you were playing with me the entire time I was watching over you."  Vegeta picked his head up from her neck and placed a finger over her lips.

"Bulma, I'm not interested in holding a conversation with you right now."  He scolded lightly.  "All I want to hear rolling off your tongue is my name."  He gave her a sexy smirk before asking, "can we do that?"

"I think that can be arranged your majesty," she responded huskily with a smirk of her own.  Reaching up once again she pulled Vegeta down to her, anticipating the rest of the night ahead of her.

Hey everyone, let me know what you think.  The review button is right below and so very easy to click on! ;)  Even if all you want to say is "I love it" or "I hate it", I would so appreciate the feedback!  Thanks for reading.  I hope to have the next chapter up within the next day or so.

Until Next Time…  


	2. One Month Later

Hello again everyone!  First of all, thanks to everyone who reviewed!  You guys are too sweet.  Second, just so there is no confusion; in this story Vegeta cannot sense the ki of a child during the first stages of its development.  Hence, he would be oblivious to the fact that Bulma may be pregnant until she told him.  I hope you like this next chapter…enjoy!

  You're What!?—Chapter 2: One Month Later 

            Vegeta walked into the kitchen looking forward to eating a hearty breakfast with his family, he had definitely worked up quite an appetite during his first training session of the day.  However, Dende seemed to have other plans for the Saiyan Prince for what he found when he observed the room was nothing short of complete disaster. Vegeta stopped dead in his tracks with his mouth slightly agape.  It literally looked like a war zone.  Pancake mix covered the floor and counters, almost as though the box had imploded;  Eggshells were seen scattered about the room, with yolk running down the one wall; smoke billowed out of the toaster and swirled around the ceiling; and Vegeta didn't even want to guess why the coffee maker was making sounds like a possessed demon.  The warrior stepped further into the room and heard a crunching under his feet and quickly looked down to see what remained off the smoke detector.  It looked like it had been blasted and if that was the case then there was only on explanation for the chaos before him: Trunks.

            Almost on cue, Trunks came crawling out of one of the bottom cabinets, pulling box after box of cereal out with him.  Standing up, Vegeta could see the boy looked about as bad as the rest of the room.  His hair stood up in certain places, whether from the eggs or pancake mix Vegeta couldn't tell.  The flour-like powder dusted his hair, face, and clothing.  His face was likewise smudged in certain places with ashes.  Trunks saw his father and his eyes widened first in shock and then in relief.

            "Dad!  Thank Dende you are here.  I think the kitchen is about to blow up.  I can't get the toaster to stop smoking and I've even unplugged it.  I had to blast that stupid smoke detector.  It just wouldn't shut up!  Do you know how dangerous this place can be?"  The nine-year-old boy said in all seriousness.  Inwardly, Vegeta simultaneously smiled and groaned.  The situation was funny, but at the same time Vegeta did not want to be the one who had to deal with it.  First things first, the Saiyan Prince walked on over to the toaster and inspected it.

            "What did you do to it?  Toast is not the hardest thing in the world to make Trunks.  Even Kakarrot can do it."  Vegeta said with some amazement coloring his voice.  It was truly mind-bending how his son had managed to mess up toast.

            "I wasn't making toast Dad," Trunks stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.  " I was making English Muffins."  Vegeta threw a glare at his son.

            "There is no difference.  Put the damn thing in the toaster, push down the lever and then wait a minute or two.  How do you mess that up?"  Trunks opened his mouth to speak and Vegeta held up his hand.  "Don't answer that."

            "All I was going to say was that I think what killed the toaster was when I lodged the butter knife in there."  Trunks replied and sure enough, when Vegeta looked there was a sorely misshapen knife stuck through one of the muffins and into the toaster.  "The stupid thing didn't pop up when it was done.  It was stuck, I was just trying to pull it on out."

            "You know what?  I'm not even going to get into the dangers of sticking a metal object into a thing running on electricity.  We just need to get this thing to stop smoking."  With that Vegeta went to the back door and stepped outside.  Walking a safe distance from the house, Vegeta chucked the burning appliance up into the air and vaporized it with a single ki blast.  Coming back into the disaster area, Vegeta saw Trunks attempting to clean up some of the egg running down the walls.  The proud warrior smirked.  "Problem solved."  He said in response to the toaster fiasco.  He was about to order his son to clean up the remainder of the kitchen when the possessed coffee maker started rattling and moving around the counter.  "What do you know? The damn thing _is_ possessed."  Vegeta said under his breath before going over to the second kitchen appliance casualty and unplugging it.  Backing away just in case the offending object initiated a sneak attack and exploded, Vegeta watched the maker and let out a sigh of relief when the appliance stopped dead in its tracks.

            "Do I even want to know what you did to that thing?"  Vegeta asked incredulously.  Trunks looked over at his father, then to the coffee maker.

            "Nope," was the simple reply that he gave before getting back to scrubbing the walls.

            "Ok then.  Finish cleaning all this up boy and then get cleaned up yourself.  I guess we are going out for breakfast today."  Vegeta instructed his son after determining that no other machines in the room were going to move, smoke, or explode.  "I take it your mother got called away for some meeting or something?"

            "No, Mom's here."  Trunks provided as an answer.  Vegeta waited for Trunks to continue and explain why she wasn't down in the kitchen but he received no such explanation.  Vegeta let out a low growl and clenched his fists, trying his hardest not to lose his patience.

            "Elaborate boy."  He clipped out.  "Why is she not down here?  And why were _you_ attempting to make breakfast?"

            "Mom's not feeling well.  I wanted to make breakfast and surprise you guys, but it didn't work out too well."

            "Oh trust me son, I was certainly surprised when I first came into the kitchen.  I'll give you a suggestion for future reference.  If this ever happens again, go with Plan B first."  Vegeta said sarcastically, pointing over to the cereal boxes that sat on the floor next to the cabinets.  Trunks nodded and gave a sheepish smile.  The Saiyan Prince slowly shook his head before patting the boy's head.  He pulled it away quickly, looking in disgust at the batter and egg yolk that covered his hand.  Walking over to the sink to wash his hands, Vegeta continued talking with his son.  "What's wrong with your mother?  I take it is nothing serious or you would have gotten me."

            "Oh no, it isn't anything too serious.  Just the stomach flu, or at least that's what Mom told me.  She looked pretty pale and she kept on throwing up."  Trunks explained as he finished cleaning the wall.  "Mom told me that she would just need to stay in bed and that she would probably be better in a day or so."  The lavender-haired boy started cleaning up the island counter, pushing everything onto the floor so that he could sweep it up.  Vegeta levitated above the floor so the boy could work and so that he wouldn't be spreading the mess through out the house.

            "Keep working son.  I'm going to go shower and check up on your mother.  Be ready for breakfast in about an hour, and then you can join me for a day of training."  Vegeta saw the boys face fall and he smirked.  "You didn't think I was just going to let this go without any repercussions did you?  You killed two appliances and a safety device Trunks.  While I don't truly care, your mother will.  Just think about that."  Trunks stopped with his work at his father's words and smiled.  Training with his Dad was not all that bad, in fact he actually liked being able to spend the time with his father.  It really wasn't all that much of a punishment.  Now if his mother was going to punish him…Trunks shuddered.  He didn't even want to think of what would happen.  The boy definitely thought his mother could be scarier than his father when she wanted to be.

            "Thanks dad!"  Trunks replied in gratitude and then resumed his cleaning with renewed vigor.

            Bulma rolled over in bed, curling up in the fetal position and wrapping the blankets more firmly around her.  "I'm dying"  She lamented over-dramatically.  

            "You aren't dying woman."  Bulma heard from the door.  If she weren't feeling so damn sick she would have yelled at her husband for sneaking up on her, it was rude, but she didn't have the energy to argue with him.  She felt the bed depress from the weight of her mate.  He pulled the comforter away from her face and gently pushed some of hair out of her eyes.  He smirked sympathetically, or as sympathetically as Vegeta could get.  "You look like hell."  He stated matter-of-factly.

            "Thank you.  I'm fully aware of that fact.  Did you just come up here to state the obvious or was there anything else I could do for you?"  Bulma questioned annoyed.  She hated being sick.  Not that anybody enjoys the experience, but Bulma was pretty sure that she hated it even more than your normal person.  Vegeta let out an amused snort.

            "The boy was correct, you must not be that sick.  You are just as quick-witted as normal."  Vegeta assessed.  He got up from the bed and walked into the master bathroom.  Bulma heard the faucet running and figured Vegeta must be getting cleaned up from his first training session in the GR this morning.  She closed her eyes, hoping to fall asleep so she wouldn't have to deal with the nausea that she was experiencing.  She was slightly surprised to feel the bed shift again as Vegeta sat back down.  "Here.  Sip this.  I don't need you getting dehydrated."  He said, holding out a glass of water.  Bulma groaned as she propped herself up slightly on her pillows, just enough so that she could sip the water without disturbing her fetal position.  "Do you need anything else?"  Vegeta asked.  Bulma smiled weakly and shook her head no, mouthing the words "thank you".  Her eyes fluttered closed as her mate caressed her cheek softly.

            "I'm going to go take a shower and then take the boy out for some food.  After that we will be training for the day, so if you need anything just hit the com-link."  Vegeta explained as he started to disrobe for his shower.  Bulma nodded and then let out a low whistle as she watched her husband undress.  Vegeta smirked at her.  "I'm off limits until you feel better."  He paused for dramatic effect.  "Think of it as incentive to get better soon."

            "Wow, thanks Vegeta.  That's some incentive."  She replied sarcastically and then moaned in discomfort.  Vegeta's smirk fell away.

            "Ok Bulma, stop fanaticizing about me and get some rest.  I have to get ready."

            "As you wish your highness."  Bulma said in a weak voice; however, a playful tone could still be heard.  Then, putting her glass on the nightstand she curled back up and closed her eyes.  Vegeta looked at his wife for a few moments longer with concern.  He did not like seeing her sick, but her mood was heartening.  This was something that would blow over pretty fast.  His mate was strong, he had no worries about that.  Before he turned to go and take his shower Vegeta called out to Bulma, whom made an indistinguishable sound to let him know she was listening.

            "Remind me to tell you about the master chef our son is when you are feeling up to it."  He told her cryptically and then left her to continue on with his day. 

Let me know what you think…a.k.a. Review, review, review! :D  The next chapter will be out soon.

Until Next Time…


	3. There's a Bun in the Oven

You're What?!—Chapter 3: There's a Bun in the Oven 

            Bulma finished brushing her hair and looked herself over in the mirror.  Noticing that she still looked a little pale, the blue-haired scientist sat down at her vanity and started applying a light coat of make-up to hide the parlor of her skin.  This was day four of the pesky flu that she just couldn't seem to shake.  She always felt the worst about mid-morning, and then the nausea would lessen considerably to the point where she almost felt as good as new by the end of the day.  However, she'd wake up the next morning and the cycle began anew. 

            After finishing up with her make-up, Bulma looked herself over again and nodded, pleased with her appearance.  She looked perfectly healthy.  She needed to act healthy this morning, or at least on her way to a full recovery.  Vegeta was not happy that she was still sick and was beginning to suggest that she visit her doctor.  Bulma hated going to the doctor unless it was absolutely necessary, and this was one case where she did not think it was necessary, yet.  Here was what would happen: she'd go and sit in the waiting room for about an hour just to be led back to an examining room to wait for another half and hour to an hour, and then finally she would see the doctor for a total of five minutes just to be told she had the flu.  It was ridiculous.

            Despite herself, Bulma smiled.  Vegeta was just trying to take care of her.  He didn't really know how to act around a person when they were sick, and Bulma, for the most part, was a fairly healthy person, so he didn't have to take on the role of care-provider very often.  His concern was endearing though.  Vegeta and her held the same opinion of doctors and bed rest, especially bed rest.  If Vegeta wasn't one breath away from dying then there was no way you were going to get him anywhere near a medical facility.  Therefore, he must be pretty concerned about Bulma's health if he was even suggesting a trip to the doctor. 

            Well, today was the day that she was going to start to _make_ herself feel better.  Sometimes in order to feel better you had to force yourself to do things that you truly did not feel up to doing.  With that in mind, Bulma left the master bedroom and headed on downstairs.  Her legs were a little wobbly from lack of sustenance.  True, she had eaten during the last couple of days, but not anything too filling.  Even when she was feeling better during the day, Bulma was leery to try and eat a full course meal, just in case her stomach decided to act up again.  That had to stop though.  She needed to force herself to eat.  She would never regain her strength if she didn't eat, and so today Bulma would rejoin her family for breakfast.  Bulma slowly walked into the kitchen and smiled at the scene that she saw.

            Trunks stood on stepstool, with an apron tied around his waist.  He was concentrating very hard at measuring out the right amount of milk for whatever was being made, making sure not to spill a drop.  Her mother was bustling around the kitchen gathering ingredients.  The radio was on in the background, playing some of her mother's favorite tunes softly.  

            "Now Trunks, dear.  When you are finished putting in the milk, we need to put the eggs in but remember, only the egg whites.  You remember how to do that, right sweetie?"  Mrs. Briefs asked as she finished putting the last of the baking products on the countertop of the island.  Trunks poured the two cups of milk he had measured into the huge bowl in front of him and started pouring out some more.  

            "Yes Grandma, I remember," Trunks replied without looking up from his task.  "But why can't we just use the whole egg?  I don't get it.  It seems like such a waste to me."  Trunks almost whined.  He did not like having to separate the yolks from the whites, it took up too much time in his opinion.

            "Because it is healthier," Bulma jumped into the conversation, making her presence known.  "Besides, we don't need all that extra cholesterol anyway."  Trunks head spun around at the sound of his mother's voice a grin plastered on his face.

            "Mom!  You're coming down for breakfast?  That's great!  Are you feeling better?"  Her young son asked hurriedly, his excitement causing him to talk faster.  Bulma walked over to her baby boy and gave him a hug and a kiss on his forehead, marveling at having him standing eye to eye with her and thinking about what she was going to do when he did finally reach her height and eventually surpassed it.  No one ever told her how difficult it was watching your child grow up.  It was depressing to know that soon he wouldn't need her at all, if he truly needed her now.  Bulma kissed her son again, making him squirm in embarrassment, and pushed such sad thoughts from her head.  She would just enjoy the time she had with Trunks now.  She flashed a brilliant smile to the boy in front of her.

            "I'm feeling better sweetie.  Not a hundred percent better, but definitely well enough to have breakfast with my family.  What are you two making?"  Bulma asked, looking at the contents of the bowl.  It gave her no clue as to what was being made.

            "Grandma and me are making…" Trunks began before being cut off by his mother.

            "Grandma and I," she corrected gently.  Trunks let out a small sort of annoyance.  Bulma shook her head and hid a smile.  That boy acted more and more like his father everyday.

            "Grandma and _I_," Trunks stressed the correction, "are making cinnamon buns."

            "Really?"  Bulma asked rhetorically, feeling like a kid again.  She loved her mother's cinnamon buns; they had always been a favorite of hers.  "I love cinnamon buns.  I could definitely eat a few of those, sick or not!"  She said with a light laugh.

            "I know dear.  Trunks and Vegeta love them too.  Although Vegeta tries to deny it."  Mrs. Briefs added with a laugh of her own.

            "Please tell me you aren't cooking again boy."  Speak of the devil and he shall appear.  Vegeta walked into the room with a towel around his neck and looked over at Trunks.  His eyes then fell on Bulma.  She smiled and gave him a playful wave.  He would deal with her later, at the moment his attention was more focused on his son and the atrocity her saw.  "What are you wearing?  What are you doing to him woman?"  He addressed Bulma's mother.  "He is a warrior, not a Suzie-homemaker."  

            "Oh Vegeta," Mrs. Briefs began in a slightly exasperated voice, "it's just an apron.  It's so he doesn't get his clothes dirty.  Besides, he was just being nice and volunteering his help to his grandmother.  It is no big deal."

            "No big deal?" Vegeta exclaimed as though the world was ending.  "The damn thing is purple!"

            "I think it is more of a lavender," Bulma chirped in with a giggle.

            "Yeah, it does kind of match my hair, Dad,"

            "Stay out of this boy.  You aren't helping matters."  Vegeta growled in agitation.  His son was already being pulled over to their side.  He didn't like being outnumbered.  A woman by herself was quite a force to reckon with; however, when they got together in groups their power seemed to grow even more.  Females were a manipulative bunch, of that he was sure. 

            "Dear, it is just an apron.  He won't be wearing it out in public or anything."  Mrs. Briefs tried to reason, only to have a cold glare sent her way.  Years around Vegeta though let her know that the man wasn't truly as mad as he appeared.  Arguing was just his way of holding a conversation.

            "It is the principle of the thing.  Royalty does not wear articles of clothing that are lavender."  Vegeta expressed, noticing that his son had not taken off the apron yet.  He looked a little confused as to what he should do.  Vegeta smirked; time to go in for the killing blow.  "That color is for girls.  No true man would wear it."

            "What?"  Trunks screeched as he quickly pulled the apron off as though it had suddenly caught on fire.  "I am not a girl!  Yuck."

            Bulma watched the proceedings with amusement.  Only her family would spend the morning arguing over a stupid apron.  Scratch that, only Vegeta would be arguing about a stupid apron.  Trunks was looking at the apron that now lay on the kitchen floor almost as though it was infected with some vile disease.  Poor boy.  Vegeta had such a skewed view on what was acceptable for a man to wear or do.  Anything that might be construed as "woman's work" was strictly off limits to himself and Trunks.  They were tough, macho warriors, not dainty flowers.  That sparked a memory: _I am a warrior, not a variety of flower!_

            "Don't worry my very masculine young man," Bulma spoke to Trunks.  "There was nothing wrong with wearing that apron, it was just for protection, not fashion.  Besides, your father is not one to talk.  He's worn pink before."  Vegeta, who had gone over to the sink to grab a glass of water and was now drinking, spit out the water at his mate's words and turned around to glare at Bulma.  Trunks eyes widened in shock as he looked at his father, his eyebrows then furrowing in concentration as he tried to imagine his Dad wearing pink.  The first image that popped into his head was his father wearing a short pink dress that his mother wore every once in awhile.  Trunks, despite his best effort to stop it, burst out laughing at the thought.

            "You've worn pink?"  The half Saiyan said in between giggles.  "Wow!  Dad, that is the most girly color of all!"

            "Shut up boy, it wasn't my fault."  He said, his eyes still shooting daggers at his wife.  "Some air-headed bimbo stole my clothes and then only offered me some hideous pink shirt to wear."  He saw Bulma grinning despite the insult he had just hurled at her.  When would he learn just to keep his mouth shut?  If he hadn't brought up the stupid apron then his embarrassment at having worn a pink shirt would have never been exposed to his son.  Better to walk away now before things got any more ugly.  "I'm going to go and take a shower.  I'll be back down when it is time to eat."  And with that, Vegeta turned on his heel and stomped out of the room, reminding Bulma of a small boy going off to sulk.

            "So, who made dad wear pink?"  Trunks asked innocently once his father was gone.  Bulma smiled and started to tell her son the story of how Vegeta had returned to Earth after looking for Goku all those years ago.

            Vegeta came back down about forty-five minutes later to find a banquet of food laid out on the table.  He smirked, now this was more like it.  Everything smelled so good, he couldn't wait to sit down and eat.  He was quite hungry, not that he wasn't always hungry when he came down for breakfast.  Mrs. Briefs was still finishing up a few things around the kitchen, grabbing more food, picking things up, and getting beverages.  Trunks sat at the table, looking like he was about to pounce on the food before him.  Bulma was nowhere to be seen.

            "Where is Bulma?"  Vegeta asked as he fully walked into the room and took a seat next to his son; eyeing what food he wanted to take first.

            "I'm right here," he heard her shaky reply as she walked into the kitchen from the other entrance.  Vegeta watched her warily for she looked a little sluggish.  "I just had to go to the bathroom."  She explained with a slight smile before sitting down across from her mate.

            "Are you ok, Mom?  You don't look as good as you did when you first came down this morning."  Trunks said in concern.  Vegeta continued looking over at Bulma and soon found himself agreeing with the boy.  His mate, despite her best efforts, did not look good.  This illness was lasting far too long for Vegeta's liking.  

            "I'm ok.  I'm just still a little nervous about eating, that's all."  She glanced at the two men in her life before turning her eyes downcast.  Reaching out for the glass of water at her place setting, Bulma sipped at it.  Mrs. Briefs finally came and sat down.

            "Well, the last batch of cinnamon buns still has a few minutes left, so there is no reason why we can't start eating now.  I'll just go and get them when the timer goes off."  She then giggled to herself.  "I guess you could say I truly have a bun in the oven, huh?"  Bulma's head whipped over to stare at her mother, her sad attempt at a joke echoing in her head.  Bulma stood up quickly, surprising everyone at the table as her chair knocked over.  She quickly mumbled an excuse and practically ran from the room with her hand covering her mouth.  Quickly rushing into the bathroom down the hall, Bulma locked the door behind her and then promptly threw up.  Once her body was done heaving, Bulma stood up on shaky legs and rinsed out her mouth and then ran cold water over her face.  Bulma glanced up at her reflection and noticed that her façade had fallen apart and she now looked awful.

            Bulma slid to the floor, numb with shock.  She didn't know why she hadn't thought of the possibility sooner, but it wasn't until she had heard her mom's joke that it finally clicked that maybe she didn't have the flu.  Maybe she had morning sickness.  Dende knew, she had experienced horrible morning sickness when she was pregnant with Trunks.  Could she really be pregnant?  No.  She couldn't be.  Could she?  Bulma held her head in her hands.  This was just too confusing.

            "Woman," Vegeta's muffled voice came from behind the door, "are you ok?"  She heard him try the door and growl in frustration to find it locked.

            "I'm fine Vegeta," Bulma answered warily.

            "Like hell you are."  Vegeta said angrily.  "Let me in Bulma."  

            Bulma looked up at the door from her place on the floor and sighed.  She didn't feel like moving; however, she knew if she didn't open the door Vegeta would just push his way in and she didn't really feel like have a new door installed.  The disheveled woman scooted on over to the door control and reached up from her place on the floor to unlock the door.  It immediately slid back to show Vegeta standing there, his face stony.  He looked down at his wife and noticed how haggard she looked.  Kneeling down he brushed her hair away from her face and then cupped her face in his hand.

            "Bulma, this has gone on long enough."  Vegeta said simply.  To his surprise, Bulma nodded with no sign of resistance.  She leaned into his hand and closed her eyes, tears escaping the confines of her lashes and falling down her cheeks.  Unbeknownst to Bulma, Vegeta looked at his mate, at a loss of what to do.  His woman was not one that resorted to tears very often and it bothered him greatly to see her cry.  Tilting her head towards his face, Vegeta gently brushed away her tears.  "Woman, what is troubling you?  Is this strictly about the sickness?  Is there something you are not telling me?"  

Bulma opened her eyes and gazed into the ebony eyes of her husband.  Should she tell him of her suspicion that she may be pregnant?  No.  She didn't even know for sure and she didn't need Vegeta flipping out over something that may not even be true.  That thought stopped her cold.  What would she do if she were pregnant?  Vegeta was not exactly pleased when he had found out about Trunks, and that April Fool's joke she had played on him two years ago had shown that he still was not very receptive of the idea of having another child.  Bulma let out a choked sob.  This could not be happening.  Bulma noticed Vegeta's rare look of concern at the sound of her sob and the blue-haired scientist pushed the doubts out of her head.  No need getting ahead of things and worrying herself sick.  There was only one thing that could clear this all up.

"Vegeta," Bulma stated once she had regained her composure, "I'm going to the doctor."

And the chapters keep on coming!  Let me know what you think.  I love all the reviews I have gotten so far…they definitely keep me writing (hint, hint).   Hopefully, the next chapter will be out soon.

Until Next Time…


	4. Preparing for the Worst

**You're WHAT?! Chapter 4: Preparing for the Worst **

            Bulma walked out of the doctor's office with her mother, who had been recruited to take the suspecting mother-to-be to her appointment.  While it was true that Vegeta was worried about her health, he wasn't concerned about her up and dying on him, and therefore, there was no way he was going to take precious time out of his training to take her to the physician.  Bulma hadn't really expected him to accompany her, he was fairly predictable in his response to things that would interrupt his daily schedule: he'd dismiss them.  If it were for any other reason that Bulma was going to the doctor she would have argued with Vegeta until he had no choice but to come with her.  Her husband did not like cold shoulder, especially in the bedroom, and he hated it even more when his access to the bedroom was cut off completely.  The guest bedrooms did not have beds that were nearly as nice as theirs.  Bulma smirked lightly at thought, sure it was manipulative but it got her what she wanted out of Vegeta.  If she didn't use the occasional threat here and there that Saiyan would do the same thing everyday!  How monotonous.  Anyway, thoughts of Vegeta's stubbornness aside, Bulma was glad Vegeta didn't join her on the visit.  It would not have been pretty.  Bulma's contemplation was cut short as her mother squealed in delight once the office building's door was closed behind them.

            "I can't believe I am going to be a grandmother again!  I wonder if it will be a boy or a girl."  Mrs. Briefs exclaimed giddy with excitement.  Despite her worries at the moment, Bulma couldn't help but grin.  She _was_ excited at the thought of having another child.  She had always wished that she could have had more children, but she wasn't exactly married to a family man.  Hell, Vegeta hadn't even wanted Trunks at first.  He'd gone as far as to deny the child as his own when she first told him of the pregnancy.  After that experience, Bulma had learned to accept the fact that her baby boy was also going to be her one and only.  She was thrilled that Trunks would finally have a brother or sister to play with, to grow up with, and to watch over and protect.

            "I hope it's a girl.  I've always wanted a little girl."  Bulma replied wistfully.  She loved Trunks with all her heart, and no matter what, he would always be her little boy.  However, there were so many aspects of his life that she could never be a part of just because he was a boy who naturally looks to his father for support.  All of his life, Trunks has idolized his father and tried so hard to follow in his footsteps.  Things like training were parts of his life that she just could not partake in.  But, if she had a little girl, she would have a child to relate to; someone who would look up to her and need her for support.  Yet, even while she daydreamed about the shopping excursions and late night talks she could have with a daughter, Bulma knew that boy or girl she would love this child with all of her heart and soul.  Come to think of it, she already did.  Bulma's mother had popped the capsule car and was already climbing in behind the controls.  Bulma sighed at the thought of having to go home, she was dreading it.

            "Bulma dear, are you coming?"  Mrs. Briefs asked with a light laugh, snapping Bulma out of her daze.  Instead of answering, Bulma climbed into the passenger seat and buckled in.  Feeling her mother's eyes upon her, Bulma turned to look at her mother and saw a worried expression.  "Are you ok?  You seemed quite happy a minute ago and now you are all depressed.  I know that by being pregnant your hormones are out of whack, but my mother's intuition is telling me that this is no mood swing I am seeing."  Bulma continued to stare at her mom for a few seconds longer, marveling at the two sides of the woman seated next to her.  Bulma would be a liar if she did not think from time to time that her mom was a ditz; however, many times the blue-haired scientist wondered how much of her air-headedness was an act.  At times like this, Bulma knew her mother was very intelligent when she wanted to be and full of sage advice if you ever cared to listen.

            "I don't know, Mom.  I'm very excited about this baby.  You know how much it has bothered me over the years that I was never going to have the chance to have another child.  But, I was willing to make that sacrifice, the family I have right now is perfect.  I've just always known that adding another member could only make it more perfect."  Bulma trailed off, not entirely sure where she was going with all of this.  Luckily for her, her mother seemed to know, even if she did not.

            "But you are worried that others in your family will not see such an addition as 'more perfect'.  You worry that this baby will be seen as an annoyance, something that is changing the comfort that your family shares now.  You worry that there will be too many sacrifices and that certain members won't want to make those sacrifices.  Am I right?"  Mrs. Briefs asked, her voice uncharacteristically serious.  Bulma looked at her mother in shock, her eyes wide and starting to brim with tears.

            "How did you know?"  Bulma breathed out, attempting to hold back her tears.  Mrs. Briefs let out a sad chuckle.

            "I know I don't live with him day and night like you do, but I have known Vegeta for as long as you have.  I know he isn't the most agreeable man at times.  Besides, I think every woman worries about these things when they become pregnant.  When I first found out that I was going to be having you, I was both thrilled and scared beyond belief.  Believe it or not, I wasn't sure if your father would want to have a baby."  Bulma raised an eyebrow at that.  She'd never known that her father was unsure about having kids; he was a natural father.  Mrs. Briefs saw her daughters slightly shocked expression and elaborated.  "Oh yes.  As you know, I was pregnant with you was right around the time the capsules your father invented started to catch on and start bringing in tons of business.  I was worried that your father would be too caught up in the expansion of Capsule Corporation to be bothered with a little buddle of joy.  But you know what?  He absolutely loved the idea and was just as excited as I was about your upcoming arrival."  She finished with an encouraging smile, patting her daughter's hand.

            "But, Vegeta is nothing like Dad.  He is so damn stubborn and set in his ways.  He didn't even want Trunks!  There is no way he is going to be happy about this baby, and I just don't know what to do about it."  Bulma practically sobbed.

            "Well, what are you going to do about it?  Vegeta will eventually notice, you know; unless you were thinking about an abortion."

"NO!"  Bulma snapped incredulously, surprised her mother would even suggest such a thing.  "That is not an option.  With or without Vegeta, I am having this baby, make no mistakes about that."  She concluded, her voice steely in her determination.  Her mother only nodded as though she had expected such an answer from her child.

"Good.  I didn't truly think you would do such a thing, but it is an option.  That's all I was saying."

"I know Mom.  I didn't mean to jump down your throat.  It's just that I can't even imagine going through with such a procedure as a means to please Vegeta and keep him in my life."  Bulma apologized.

"You keep on mentioning about Vegeta leaving you, honey.  You don't truly believe he would abandon his family, do you?"  Mrs. Briefs asked gently.  Bulma nodded her head, unable to voice her thoughts out loud.  They were too painful.  This time it was Mrs. Briefs turn to sigh.  "Darling, I don't think you are giving your husband enough credit.  I know he left you after Trunks was born, but he came back.  _He came back_," she stressed each word, "and he has not left your side during these past eight years.  And although I don't know what exactly happened with this whole Buu character, even I can see that Vegeta is not the same man he once was.  I believe he finally knows what it is to love another completely.  He loves you Bulma.  Anyone with eyes could see that.  Give him a chance."  

Bulma swatted her tears away, a small smile gracing her lips.  Perhaps her mother was right.  She certainly knew better than anyone of the changes Vegeta had undergone since Buu.  She was the only person on the planet to fully witness his slow evolution from planetary killer to proud prince and father.  Perhaps she was being a little overdramatic and preparing for the worst.  She just needed to go home and tell him.  It was the only thing to do.  As her mother had said, he would eventually find out anyway.  Pretty soon he would probably be able to feel the baby's ki from within her, and she didn't want him to find out that way.  He would feel like she had been purposely hiding it from him, and she didn't want to betray his trust like that.  So, it was settled.  She was going to tell Vegeta and whatever happened, happened.  She would cross that bridge when she came to it.  Feeling a hundred percent better, Bulma reached over and gave her mom a huge hug.

"Thank you mom," she whispered in her ear.  Bulma then pulled away.  "I don't know what I would ever do with out you."

"That's what mothers are for," was all she said in response, glad to see her daughter feeling better.

"Let's go.  I have some news I need to share with the rest of the family."  Then, as an afterthought, she added: "How about we stop for a light lunch?  I think my stomach can handle it if we stop at that little outdoor café in the North of the city.  That way I don't have to truly worry about smelling any of the food.  Smelling certain foods just kicks my morning sickness into high gear.  But perhaps first we can stop at the grocery store and have some things delivered to the house.  I need to get some things to try and combat this morning sickness before it gets any worse.  Besides, that way our groceries will be at the house by the time we are done with our meal."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea Bulma."  Mrs. Briefs responded lightly, her bubbly nature returning in the blink of an eye.  Bulma placed a hand over her stomach and smiled.  Things were going to be ok.  She just had to think positive.

So, this was a filler chapter more than anything else.  I needed to get Bulma's feelings out in the open, but I didn't want to drag it on for too long.  I hope this chapter wasn't boring.  I promise, sparks will start to fly in the next chapter…which should be out either later on today or tomorrow.  Keep the Reviews coming!  And thanks to everyone who has reviewed.  You have all been so nice!

Until Next Time…


	5. Only Eight Months Left

You're WHAT?! Chapter 5: Only Eight Months Left

            Trunks, remembering what his mother had taught him, tipped Maurice, their loyal grocery deliveryman.  The man had been delivering the Briefs groceries for years now, and had made himself a pretty penny by doing so.  Needless to say, the Briefs went through a lot of food in a year.  Chatting casually about how his summer vacation was going, Trunks escorted Maurice back to the main entrance of Capsule Corp.  Once the man was gone, the young boy sprinted back to the kitchen to see if his mother had bought anything good.  Pulling the stepstool up to the counter, so that he could see into the brown paper bags, Trunks started emptying out the contents.  He was actually kind of surprised that there were only a couple of bags.  Normally, there were enough bags to cover every available space in the kitchen.      

The boy's face scrunched up in disgust and confusion at the items he was pulling out.  There were a couple of bottles of ginger ale, some boxes of herbal tea, saltine crackers, pretzels, potato chips, pasta, a freshly baked loaf of bread, peanut butter, a bottle of vitamin B-6, ground ginger, and a prescription of doxylamine.  Where was the red meat, candy, ice cream, pizza, and soda pop?  Ginger ale, in Trunks' mind, did not count as pop.  Who really liked that stuff anyway?  No self-respecting kid would ever own up to liking such a drink.  It was all about drinking a beverage with the most sickening sweet and sugary taste: like Mountain Dew.  

Trunks looked over the items that lay strewn around the countertop and rolled his eyes.  It was a very disappointing shopping trip.  The boy only hoped that his mother wasn't going on some silly diet again.  She was constantly worried about gaining a few pounds or looking old.  Trunks thought his mom was the most beautiful woman on the planet.  He didn't understand why she always felt like she was less than perfect.  Dad thought she was, so why couldn't she see it.  Trunks shrugged and guessed that this was the type of confusing things women did that his father was always warning him about.

Not bothering to put the groceries away, Trunks hopped on down from his perch on the stepladder and left the kitchen.  He was halfway up the stairs when he heard his mom and grandma walk into the living room.  Turing back around, Trunks started to descend the stairs and see how his mother's doctor appointment had gone.  He stopped and kept his presence hidden as he heard his mom speak in a grave voice.  Trunks could tell that something was wrong, and he knew that the adults would never tell him what was going on if he walked in on them now.  Therefore, it was best to play secret agent.  Situations like this called for some good old fashion spying!

"Remember Mom, I don't want you to act like anything is wrong, and don't tell anyone about what the doctor said today.  You promise?"  Trunks stuck his head around the corner of the wall to see his mom and grandma walk into the kitchen.  Levitating off the ground so he wouldn't make any sound, the lavender-haired child floated on over and landed at the wall adjoining the kitchen and the living room, being sure to stay completely hidden from view.  "Well, at least we know the groceries got here." He heard his mother say in a slightly amused voice.  He heard the crinkling of bags and the opening and closing of cabinets, as the two women started putting away the items they had purchased earlier that afternoon.

"So sweetie, when do you plan on telling Vegeta and Trunks?  You can't wait forever.  You don't have that much time."  His grandmother said, her voice not quite as chipper as normal.  That put Trunks on high alert.  Things were serious if his grandmother wasn't acting like a total Valley Girl.

"I don't know.  I guess I might as well tell Vegeta first and get his reaction, and hopefully his support, before I spring the news on Trunks.  Perhaps over a nice dinner tonight would be the best option.  I could see about Trunks spending the night at Goten's."  He heard another cabinet close.  "Yes, that's what I'll do.  The sooner I tell them the better."  Due to the fact that Trunks was hidden behind the wall, he did not see his mother turn to his grandmother with her hand over her belly.  "Can you believe I only have eight months left?!"  She said in wonder and Trunks quickly placed his hand over his mouth, trying to stop the gasp from escaping his lips.

"I know dear.  And the time will fly by.  Enjoy it while you can, and remember, I am here for you if things ever seem to rough and you don't think you can live through another day."  Trunks heard his mom sniffle and carefully peeked his head around the corner.  The two women were locked in an embrace, his grandmother stroking his mom's hair in a comforting manner.  Trunks eyes filled with tears.  He couldn't believe what he had just heard!  Without a sound, Trunks literally flew on down the hall and into the corridors of Capsule Corp.  The boy slowed down as he reached his destination: the Gravity Room.

Practically sobbing, Trunks engaged the override and shut down the gravity.  A string of curses was heard as Trunks opened the door, but the boy paid the words no heed.  Trunks raced in and slammed into his father.  

            "Thank you Mom.  You don't know how much that means to me."  Bulma expressed as she pulled away from the embrace Trunks had witnessed.  She wiped away the tears that she had shed and hugged her mother one more time.  With her emotions back under check, Bulma started walking her mother to the back door.

            "Now remember, if Trunks can't stay the night at Goten's feel free to send him on over to see us!  Your father and I just love having that young man over."  Mrs. Briefs  instructed as she exited the house to walk on over to the other side of the compound where their retirement house was located.  Once Capsule Corp.'s ownership was transferred over to Bulma, her parents had decided it was time to leave the main house.  Bulma had been grateful.  It was nice to have a house where only her family resided.  But, it was always a comfort to know that if she ever needed anything, her parents were only a few minutes walk away.  "Now take care of yourself Bulma, dear.  I'll give you a call in the morning to find out how things went.  Good bye, sweetie."  Bulma returned her farewell and smiled as her mother started on her walk.

            Walking back into the kitchen, Bulma decided that she needed to call Chi-Chi to see if Trunks could possibly stay there for the night, then she needed to get the robots programmed for dinner.  While, it was true that Bulma's cooking had improved greatly over the years, she was not taking any chances tonight.  Things needed to be perfect when she sat down with Vegeta.  Grabbing her purse, Bulma walked upstairs and into her bedroom.  Bulma glanced over at her bed.  She couldn't remember a time when it had looked so inviting.  It took all of her willpower not to go and lie down on the bed and take a nap.  So truly felt drained, and it was depressing to know that for the next couple of months she would be experiencing that feeling a lot.  Perhaps she could sleep in a little bit, but she had a few matters she needed to clear up first.  Picking up her phone she dialed the Son household.

            "Hi! Son residence, this is Goku speaking."  Bulma heard the cheerful voice of her friend.  Bulma couldn't help but laugh as she answered.

            "Hello Goku, this is Bulma.  I see Chi-Chi has been working pretty hard to teach you how to answer the phone properly!"  She jested with her friend.  Goku let out a hardy chuckle.  She could just picture him standing there with his hand behind his head in his trademark pose.

            "Yeah.  Chi-Chi is bound and determined to get me comfortable with using technology.  I don't see what the big deal is though.  I get along fine without lots of fancy gadgets."  Goku responded with his normal innocence.

            "I guess she just wants you to keep up with the times.  A telephone after all isn't exactly a 'fancy gadget'.  Perhaps if you used a phone one every once in awhile, you would be able to stay in touch with your friends!"  Bulma said, hinting at Goku's lack of correspondence with her.  She always made sure to make some sort of comment about her friend's lack of effort when it came to keeping in touch with everyone.  It annoyed her to no end that the man could never find the time to at least say hi.

            "Oh, come on Bulma!  It's not my fault.  I've just been busy training, that's all.  I'm sorry.  I'll try and be better, I promise."  Goku practically whined, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Bulma called him out.

            "Sure Goku.  Whatever," Bulma replied with a roll of her eyes.  This conversation was getting her nowhere, and fast.  "Anyway, I was just calling to see if perhaps Trunks could come over to spend the night.  I have something important to discuss with Vegeta and I would really like it if Trunks wasn't here to accidentally overhear."  

            "Well, let me just make sure with Chi-Chi, but I don't think it would be a problem if he was to come on over.  I know Goten would love to have   
Trunks over for a sleepover.  Hang on just one second."  Goku placed his hand over the receiver, but Bulma could still hear her friend yell the question to his wife.  Bulma smirked.  Goku would always be that little boy she had found in the woods.  "Hey, Bulma?"  He asked; making sure she was still there.  Bulma answered.  "We would love to have Trunks for the night.  Just send him on over whenever!"

            "Thank you Goku, and thank Chi-Chi for me too.  I really, really appreciate this, especially given the short notice."

            "No problem.  I'll talk to you later then, ok?"

            "Sure thing.  Bye Goku."  After Goku had said goodbye, Bulma hung up the phone.  Well at least that was one thing out of the way.  Looking over at her bed longingly, Bulma left her room and entered her son's to pack up an overnight bag.  All she would have to do after this small task was get dinner rolling.  Bulma looked at her watch.  She still had plenty of time; perhaps she would be able to take a nap yet.  Something was telling her that she would need all her strength tonight.

            Vegeta hit the floor of the Gravity Room with a thud.  Muttering every known curse in his vocabulary, Vegeta started to rise.  Who dared to interrupt his training?  Whoever it was, they were going to wish that they had never been born when he was through with them. Vegeta had just gotten up off the floor when his distraught son tackled him, sending them both to the floor.  Vegeta growled and pushed the boy off of him.

            "What are you doing boy?"  The Saiyan Prince hissed.  His tirade stopped before it truly even began as Trunks once again latched onto his father, holding him as though his life depended on it.

            "She's dying!"  The young half-Saiyan sobbed.  Vegeta roughly pulled the boy off of him, holding him at arms length.

            "What?"  Vegeta asked annoyed.  What was the boy talking about?

            "Mom!  She's dying.  I heard her talking to grandma in the kitchen."  He started hysterically, everything rushing out all at once.  "Mom didn't want Grandma to say anything to us.  She made her promise.  Then mom was worried about how she was going to tell us and she only has eight months and grandma said that she would help her if she ever felt like she wasn't going to live another day."  Trunks managed to tell the last part of his story all in one breath, making it hard to fully understand what exactly the boy was trying to express.

            "Slow down boy.  Breathe," he instructed to the practically hyperventilating youth.  Trunks took his fathers advice and started taking deep breaths, swatting away the tears as he did so.  He hated to cry in front of his father, it made him feel weak but he just couldn't help it in this situation.  He didn't want to think about losing his mother!  Vegeta noticed his son regaining his composure, the only sound in the room was Trunks' hiccupped breathing due to his sobs.  "Now, calmly tell me what has happened.  You're mother told you she was dying?  That's what the doctor told her?"  Vegeta asked, his voice devoid of emotion.  He wasn't going to go flying off the handle until he got all the facts straight.  There was no way his mate could be dying.  At least that was what the majority of his brain was telling him; however, there was that one nagging doubt that maybe his son spoke the truth.  No!  He wouldn't believe it until he heard it from Bulma's mouth.

            "No.  Mom didn't tell me directly.  I heard Mom and Grandma return from the doctor's, and they were talking very seriously.  I heard Mom telling Grandma that she couldn't tell anyone about mom's condition.  I knew then that Mom would never tell me what was wrong so I stayed in hiding and listened in to their conversation.  It was then that Mom talked about how she was going to tell us the news.  She plans on sending me away to stay at Goten's and telling you over dinner tonight.  She then said, 'can you believe I only have eight months left?'.  That was when Grandma said that she would be there for her and that things would be rough, but she should just make the most of the time she has!  Then Mom started crying and grandma held her.  I left after that."  Trunks finished, his head hanging low.  He then looked up at his Dad, and never had Vegeta seen such fear in the boy's eyes.  "I don't want Mom to die!"  He whispered, fighting off the new batch of tears that threatened to spill.

Vegeta sighed.  There had to be some explanation for all of this.  His mate was not dying.  She couldn't die.  What would he do without her?  The proud prince growled.  He did not need to get hysterical like his son.  The boy had only overheard part of a conversation; who knows what valuable information he had missed.  "Trunks, I need you to settle down.  The way you are acting is unbefitting a prince.  I'm sure your mother is not dying."

"How can you be sure?  You don't know any more than I do."  Trunks lashed out, breaking free from his father's grasp.  Vegeta stood up and looked down at his son with an icy stare.

"Precisely.  You don't know everything either, you just said it yourself.  You heard part of a conversation, that's it.  Who knows what your mother was talking about.  I know the parts you heard could lead someone to believe that your mother may be dying, but I won't believe it until I hear it directly from your mother's mouth.  And even then, I will want a second opinion.  Who knows how much of a quack this doctor she went to really is.  Now, I want you to put these thoughts out of your head.  You must be strong son.  Until we have solid proof of what is going on, don't jump to conclusions.  Got it?"  Vegeta asked his son harshly, pleased to see him nodding his head and looking ten times better than he had when he came storming in.  

"And what are you two doing in here?  I was surprised to see the gravity turned off."  Both Trunks and Vegeta spun around to see Bulma entering the training chamber, the smile she was wearing quickly disappearing as she saw Trunks' red puffy eyes.  "Sweetie, what's wrong?  Why have you been crying?"  She asked in concern, shooting an accusing glare at Vegeta.  Vegeta put on his best innocent face, which was not all that innocent looking, and shrugged his shoulders.  It would figure that Vegeta had actually done something rather fatherly and Bulma missed it all.

"I'm fine Mom.  Dad was actually helping me."  Bulma looked up at her husband in amused shock, a grin on her face.

"He was, was he?  Good job daddy."  She said with a playful wink.  Vegeta glowered, which just made Bulma grin even more.  "Well come on honey, I have a special dinner planned for your father and me.  You get to go stay with Goten tonight, how does that sound?"  Bulma asked her son as she came to put an arm around his shoulder to lead him out of the room.  

"Sounds great mom," he answered, less than enthused.

"What's wrong?"  Bulma asked, concerned that her son wasn't falling over himself at the chance to hang out with his best friend.

"Who cares?  You can talk about this elsewhere.  I need to train and you two are just wasting my time."  Vegeta practically snarled, his patience wearing thin.  

"Fine!"  Bulma yelled, ushering Trunks out of the room before turning back to Vegeta.  "You are an asshole!  There is something wrong with our son and you could care less."

"I was doing just fine before you came in!  But did you see that?  No.  Now get out of my face.  You want me to come to your stupid dinner, then let me train."  Vegeta yelled, angry at Bulma's scolding.  Bulma huffed and bristled at his response, but bit her tongue.  She did not need to get into a full-blown argument with Vegeta.

"I'm out of here.  Enjoy your training.  You just better be at dinner."  Bulma stormed out of the Gravity Room.  "Six o'clock sharp," she called over her shoulder and then slammed the door to the room.  Vegeta sighed, finally he'd have some peace and quite.  Outside the room, Bulma smirked as she reengaged the Gravity, slamming Vegeta, who was unprepared for the sudden shift, to the ground.  As she walked on down the corridor she heard the door open and Vegeta step out of the room.

"Blasted woman!"  He screeched angrily.  Bulma didn't even turn around at his outburst but kept on walking down the hall.  Enraged even further, Vegeta clenched his fists and then entered his gravity room to finish his training and keep his mind off of his mate.

Poor Trunks!  I guess it is true that nothing good ever comes from eavesdropping.  So, what did you guys think?  I'm glad that so many of you are enjoying the story as much as I enjoy writing it!  I'll have the next chapter out soon, and it should be a good one.  Vegeta will finally find out about Bulma's condition.  I can hardly wait!

Until Next Time…


	6. The Moment of Truth

You're WHAT?! Chapter 6: The Moment of Truth 

            Vegeta grunted from the effort of finishing his last push-up in the extreme gravity that his most prized possession simulated.  Nimbly, he sprung back up onto his feet and walked over to the internal controls.  Vegeta took a deep breath and prepared himself for the momentary, dizzying sensation he always felt when returning back to Earth's gravity after spending numerous hours in the weighted atmosphere.  The chamber made a low hum as it deactivated, and Vegeta felt as though his body was as light as a feather.  With the room's gravity returned to normal, Vegeta began stretching to make sure he wouldn't be sore later on this evening.  Stretching out his arms, the prince finally started thinking about the stubborn, pain-in-the-ass that he called mate.

            While it was true that Vegeta was slightly concerned about the conversation that Trunks had overheard earlier this afternoon, he truly did not believe that his wife was dying.  Sure, there was that ghost of a chance, but Vegeta would bet his birthright that death was not his mate's fate at this time.  The Saiyan Prince was many things, but stupid was not one of them.  He had an idea as to what was wrong with his wife; he just didn't want to jump to conclusions.  It was best to wait and have all the facts before one made a deduction, that way you were never made out to be a fool.  So, he would be patient and wait until dinner to see what the doctor had told Bulma.  Besides, Vegeta wasn't going to complain.  He was getting a special meal and the boy was out of the house, a fact he planned to use to his advantage later.  Vegeta stopped at that thought and smirked evilly.  The woman needed to be "punished" after the little performance she had put on this afternoon.  No one, wife or not, slammed him into the ground using dirty, underhanded tactics and got away with it unscathed.  Knowing his little minx, she was probably planning on such a punishment.  Then again, with whatever she had to tell him tonight, perhaps she wasn't planning on any extra-circular activities.

            Finishing up the stretching of his quads, Vegeta decided that, regardless of what the woman was expecting tonight, he was not going to take no for an answer.  He had been deprived for four whole days due to this mystery illness, and he would wait no longer, especially if his theory proved to be true.  Grabbing a towel and slinging it around his neck, Vegeta exited his home away from home and headed toward his bedroom.  He had exactly one hour before dinner was to commence.  That would give him enough time to take an extra long shower.  Not that he would admit it to anyone but himself, and that was pushing it, but Vegeta was feeling a little tense.  These last couple of days had required too much concern for Vegeta's liking.  He didn't like having to solve problems by tapping into his emotions.  Nurturing was not in the prince's programming.  He preferred problems that required something getting blasted as a means of remedy, kind of like Trunks' toaster issue.

            Walking into the master bedroom, Vegeta was a little disappointed to find the room empty.  Bulma must be getting the finishing touches done on dinner, or avoiding him.  Probably a little of both, he figured.  The Saiyan Prince quickly stripped out of his spandex training shorts and threw them and the towel into the laundry hamper when he entered the adjoining bathroom.  Vegeta turned on the water in the shower and let in run.  Moving to stand in front of the mirror, Vegeta looked at his reflection and started examining at his profile, first from the left side and then from the right.  He always wondered what he would look like if he were to grow out a beard or mustache.  His father had had a goatee and Vegeta always thought it made him look more fearsome and intimidating.  Would it do the same thing for him?  Then again, his father was a bigger man than he was.  Perhaps it would just look stupid on him.  Well for the time being, Vegeta was content to stay clean-shaven.  Maybe some time in the future he would change his mind and grow out a mustache, it couldn't be that bad, right?  Satisfied that the water was properly warmed, Vegeta stepped into the heated spray and emptied his mind of all thoughts as the water relaxed his tense body.

            Bulma straightened her dress as she waited in the dining room for Vegeta.  He was late.  Not that it truly surprised her.  That man was probably just sitting up in their room so that he would be late on purpose, knowing that it would annoy the hell out of her.  Well, he wasn't going to get the satisfaction of pushing her buttons tonight.  She was just going to pretend to not even notice his tardiness.  Bulma was bound and determined to make everything as perfect as possible tonight.  She wanted to get Vegeta into a good mood, well, as good of a mood as he ever got into.  She smiled as she felt the fabric of her dress: a royal blue silk.  Blue was Vegeta's favorite color, and Bulma knew that it would take all of her husband's control to not reach out and caress the fabric of her dress.  Bulma wanted Vegeta to be focused on her and the passion she knew she elicited in him.  She wanted his thoughts of how much he loved her and lusted for her to be first and foremost in his mind when she broke her news to him.  Perhaps then he wouldn't be upset with the knowledge that a new member of the royal family was on its way.

            Bulma felt a hand brush across her shoulder to finger the strap of her dress and she gasped, whirling around in her seat to find her mate smirking down at her.  Oh how she hated his stealthy movements.  Any annoyance Bulma felt was short-lived when she truly looked at Vegeta.  He stood before her in a white button down shirt, with just enough buttons undone to show off his chest, and a pair of pressed black slacks.  Rarely did Vegeta make an attempt to dress up and so, Bulma was pleasantly surprised to see her prince looking so debonair.  He looked downright sexy, and the worst thing was, he knew it too!  Damn.  And here she was trying to be the one to seduce him.

            Vegeta didn't say a word as he walked around the table to take his seat on the opposite side of his mate.  Although he wouldn't tell her at the moment, she looked absolutely stunning.  In fact, she looked so good Vegeta was tempted to postpone dinner so that he could have his dessert first.  As much as he may want to ravage the woman before him, he restrained himself.  The woman had gone through great strides to make a special evening and he was going to play by her rules for once.

            Once both were seated, the kitchen bots started bringing out the food for the first course of their meal.  The blue-haired scientist had a special menu arranged so that hopefully none of the food would cause her to feel any nausea.  She did not want the dinner to be ruined because she was constantly running to the bathroom.  Bulma glanced over at Vegeta, unsure of how to start up a conversation.  She couldn't remember the last time she had been this nervous around her husband.  Vegeta noticed how uncomfortable his wife was and decided to do something to break the ice.  At this rate, he figured, he would never learn what the woman wanted to tell him.

            "So, did you ever find out what was wrong with the boy?"  Vegeta asked.  He smirked as he noticed Bulma's shock that he was starting a conversation.

            "No.  But I think it had something to do with me."  Bulma replied, grateful that Vegeta wasn't immediately grilling her as to what the doctor had told her.  Vegeta chuckled at her response.

            "I'll say it did.  He overheard your conversation with your mother this afternoon."  Vegeta said with slight amusement.  His amusement faded as Bulma dropped her fork in surprise and it hit her salad plate, causing a slight clatter.  The Saiyan Prince looked over at his mate and immediately noticed that her face had paled considerably.

            "You mean he knows, and he told you?"  Bulma inquired with wide eyes.  At Vegeta's nodded, Bulma placed a hand to her chest, almost as though to try and control her ragged breathing.  Vegeta looked over at his wife, his face blank.

            "I'm taking it by your reaction that what he told me was true?"  He asked, not divulging the fact that Trunks had told him she was dying.  He'd said it before, and he was sure he'd say it again; his woman was much too easy to bait.

            "Yes," she breathed out, then more strongly she added, "yes, it's true."

            "Then you are dying?"  Vegeta said deadpan.  Once again, Bulma's eyes widened and her mouth fell slightly agape.

            "WHAT?!"  She finally screeched when she had fully comprehended what Vegeta had just asked her.  Vegeta slightly winced at her outburst, his sensitive ears not liking the shrill timbre that Bulma's voice had taken.  "What are you talking about?  I'm not dying.  Where would Trunks get an idea like that?"

            "You'd better ask him yourself.  I'm not retelling his story for him.  Just be thankful that I am not as gullible as he.  I told the boy you were not dying."  Vegeta replied with a smirk.      

"Vegeta!  How could you?  You didn't know that for sure!  What if I was?"  She questioned.

            "Trust me woman, I just knew you couldn't be dying on me."  Vegeta answered in a voice that told Bulma that this was the only explanation she was receiving and she just better accept it.  Knowing this part of the conversation to have reached a dead-end, Bulma brought up another topic.

            "Poor Trunks.  It must have been awful for him to be thinking that I was dying.  I can only imagine how he came up with that idea.  I'll have to take him out for ice cream and maybe some new toys when he gets back tomorrow."  Bulma said the last part more to herself than to Vegeta.  However, Vegeta snorted and decided to comment on her final statement.

            "Woman, you spoil that child too much.  He's a Saiyan of royal blood, he can certainly get over this misunderstanding."  He declared in a strict voice, never liking it when he thought this son was being coddled too much.

            "Oh Vegeta," Bulma began before cutting herself off.  "You know what?  I'm not even going to get into this conversation with you.  I'll care for our son as I see fit.  You'll just have to live with that."

            "Like hell I will," the prince began, but likewise stopped his tirade at Bulma's pleading gaze that they not get into one of their normal arguments.  Crossing his arms across his chest, a surefire sign that Vegeta was not pleased with what was happening around him, Vegeta let out a huff of annoyance.  Bulma smiled at her husband in a silent thank you.  "Well, if we aren't going to argue, then how about you tell me what this is all about."  Vegeta stated as he began eating his soup once again.  Bulma gulped.  She was hoping to avoid this question until the meal was over.  But so far things had not gone as she had planned.  

            "Well, I just thought it would be nice to have a quiet dinner, just the two of us."  Bulma answered, hoping to deflect the question for the time being.  Vegeta gave a cold stare.  Enough was enough, he deserved to know what was troubling his wife so much.

            "You know that is not what I am talking about Bulma.  Why did you plan this?  What did the doctor tell you that makes you feel like you have to butter me up before you tell me?"  He asked, annoyance clearly heard in his voice.  Bulma pushed her plate away from her, suddenly losing the slight appetite she had gained.  

            "Well, the doctor said I am in perfect health.  Isn't that great?"  She asked with false cheerfulness.  Vegeta grabbed a roll and started to butter it.  He looked up from his task, his eyebrow slightly raised as though telling her to go on.  Bulma bristled.  "Fine, then don't answer me.  I guess my health isn't important to you."  With that Bulma stood up.  "Enjoy your meal."  She clipped out before turning to leave the dining room.  She didn't get far, however, for Vegeta had gotten up from his chair and blocked her path.  Damn him and his super speed, Bulma thought bitterly.

            "Where do you think you are going?"  Vegeta demanded, grasping her shoulders lightly.  Bulma just turned her head away from her husband and heard him growl in frustration.  "What is it woman that you are finding so difficult to tell me?"  Once again, he received no response.  His patience waning fast, Vegeta picked up his mate around the waist and took her back to her seat.  Bulma offered no resistance, since she knew she couldn't break free.  Dropping her into her chair, the prince walked back around to his seat.  He didn't even get a chance to sit down before Bulma was back out of her seat, attempting to escape again.  "Damn it, woman!  You are acting like a baby."  He yelled, walking back towards his wife.  At his words, Bulma froze.  Of all the things to say, why did he have to say baby?  Normally, he would tell her she was acting like a child.

            The Saiyan Prince went to stand before his wife.  Calming himself, he slowly took his wife's chin in his hand and slowly tilted her face up towards his own.  Gazing into her eyes, it was easy to see the turmoil that was swimming those oceanic depths.  The thing that bothered Vegeta was that he knew this turmoil was because of him.  Well, he was about to fix that; at least that's what he hoped.

            "Bulma, how hard is it to say, 'Vegeta, I'm pregnant'?"  Vegeta asked, testing his theory.  Of course he wasn't a hundred percent sure that his was mate was indeed pregnant, but he figured the odds were in his favor.  Vegeta smirked when he saw Bulma's shocked expression and heard her gasp in surprise.  Score one for Vegeta.

            "How did you know?  I didn't think you would be able to feel the baby yet."  Bulma asked breathlessly.  This night was turning into one shock after another.

            "I didn't know for sure, but I had a haunch.  The way you have been acting was exactly how you were behaving during the first couple of months you were carrying Trunks.  Besides, your menstrual cycle is late."  Vegeta explained.  Bulma had taken notice that her period was a few days late, but it wasn't long enough for her to be concerned.

            "Why didn't you say anything sooner?  I didn't figure it out until this morning."  Bulma asked, surprised that Vegeta had held his tongue this long.

            "There was no need for me to say anything unless I was a hundred percent sure.  Wouldn't you rather find out yourself than have your mate tell you?"  Vegeta countered.  Bulma found herself nodding in response.  

            "So, you aren't mad about this baby?"  Bulma questioned timidly.  This was too much for her to handle.  Here she had been sick with worry all day about how her mate was going to respond to her news and Vegeta had known all a long.

            "Why would I be?  It's not like you can get rid of it, correct?"  Vegeta answered flippantly.  Once the words were out of his mouth, he knew he had not phrased that properly.  This was not going to be pretty.  Bulma looked at her husband in appall.

            "So you don't really want this baby."  She said between clenched teeth.  "You are just going to put up with it.  I should have known.  You know what?  I did know.  This is why I have been dreading the moment I had to tell you about this baby."  Bulma moved to get around Vegeta and flee the room, but Vegeta once again blocked her path.  "Let me go!"  She practically screamed when he reached out and puller her to his chest.  This time she struggled against him.

            "Bulma, settle down.  I didn't mean it like that.  I just meant that what's done is done.  I'm not upset that you are pregnant.  I know you have always wanted another child but I was just too damn stubborn and proud to allow it.  I am not the best father a child can have.  I don't want to make the same mistakes I have made with Trunks all over again."  Vegeta explained to Bulma, his voice sincere.  Bulma stopped her struggles and looked up into her husband's face, tears forming in her eyes.  Once you had been around Vegeta as long as she had, you learned to read between the lines.  What he had just practically just told her was that he was scared, scared that he was not a fit father.

            "Oh Vegeta," Bulma whispered, hugging him close.  "You are a wonderful father.  Trunks adores you!  Sure, you aren't very affectionate, but Trunks knows that you love him.  He knows that you would give your life to protect him.  That's something a lot of kids could not say about their dads.  You do things as best you can, and that is all that matters.  I know you will continue to be an excellent father to both our children."  

            Vegeta slowly put his arms around his mate, growling lightly under his breath.  He hated how well his woman knew him at times.  Even with her, the only person in his life that he trusted fully, he hated appearing weak.  And that is how he felt right now.  He didn't like appearing unsure of himself, and that was what Bulma had picked up on: his self-doubt.

            "Are you happy about this baby?"  Vegeta asked Bulma suddenly.  Bulma bit her lip, not wanting to seem overly excited, but her excitement won the best of her and she grinned.

            "I'm so very happy."  Bulma said through the tears of joy that were now falling down her face.

            "Then I am happy," Vegeta replied with a small smirk.  Sure, he was still a little unsure of how he truly felt about another brat running around the house, but he knew now, unlike a year ago, how much he loved his family.  Therefore, Vegeta was sure that despite the sacrifices and changes that would have to occur due to this newest addition, that he would love this child as much as he did Trunks.  Who knows, perhaps he would do things better with this child.  He wouldn't be an overly affectionate or loving father, but he would be the best father that he knew how to be.  This little brat would be the embodiment of the second chance he had received after being wished back during the whole Buu incident, and Vegeta did not plan on letting that second chance go to waste.  Pulling away from Bulma, he bent down for a kiss, which Bulma returned with equal passion.

            "How about we finish dinner, my prince?"  Bulma asked her husband when she had broken the kiss in order to breath.  "The sooner we finish here, the sooner we can move on to other things."  She added suggestively.  Vegeta smirked as he watched Bulma sway on back to her seat.  Bulma gasped as she unexpectedly found herself hoisted up and over Vegeta's shoulder.  She giggled lightly, knowing exactly what the Saiyan was going to say next.

            "Dinner can wait."  He responded, exactly as Bulma knew he would.  Then with his prized catch still slung over his shoulder, Vegeta walked out of the dining room and upstairs to their bedroom.

So, let me know what you think.  I had played around with the idea of Vegeta being totally shocked by Bulma's news that she was pregnant, but then I thought that this was a much better approach.  Everyone always assumes that he was totally shocked, and I wanted to do something different.  Oh well.  I hope you all liked this chapter.  Thanks again for all the reviews!  They have been wonderful.  The next chapter may have to wait until the weekend is over…the bars are a calling!  Monday would be the latest the next chapter comes out, so thanks for your patience.

Until Next Time…


	7. Big Brother

You're What?! Chapter 7: Big Brother 

            Trunks sat in the passenger seat of his mother's favorite personal jet staring down at his hands.  His mother had not been in the best of moods when she had come to pick him up from the Son's house, and that mood had turned even more sour when she had learned of what Trunks had done while sleeping over at his friend's house.  He was just hoping that maybe if he kept his mouth shut and didn't draw attention to himself during the ride home that his mother wouldn't ground him.  Getting bored with studying the skin on his hand, Trunks turned his attention out the window to watch the scenery fly by.  It was then that he noticed that the jet was not flying in the direction of Capsule Corps.

            "Mom?"  Trunks asked timidly.  Bulma quickly glanced over at the raven-haired boy next to her, showing that she was listening.  "Where are we going?"

            "Well, I was going to go and take you out for ice cream and some toys due to the ordeal you went through yesterday."  Bulma began, never taking her eyes off of the sky before her.  "But," she continued with slight amusement coloring her voice, "if you don't want to go, oh great Saiyan prince, we don't have to."

            "Of course I want to go!"  The young boy said enthusiastically, totally missing his mother's sarcastic use of his title.  He then looked at his mother suspiciously as a thought popped into his head.  "Wait a second.  I thought you were mad at me.  Why are we still going to get ice cream and toys?"

            "I am mad at you Trunks.  What you did at the Son's house was not a good thing and don't think you won't be punished.  However, I am making up for the pain you went through yesterday.  Besides, I have something I want to talk to you about."  Bulma explained and quickly gave her only son a pat on the leg.

            "And you are sure you are not dying?"  Trunks asked again.  This time the blue-haired genius laughed.

            "Yes, sweetie.  I'm sure."

            "Ok."  Trunks said firmly.  He then swallowed and glanced over at his mom.  Her mood seemed to be lightening a little.  "Mom, I really am sorry about my hair.  I just wanted to look more Saiyan.  I didn't do it to make you mad.  It was just that Goten mentioned how weird it was that I am the Prince of all Saiyans and I don't even have black hair.  Besides, don't I look more like dad now?"  Trunks said all in a rush, a trait he always showed when he was nervous about being in serious trouble.

            "Yes.  You look exactly like your father."  Bulma clipped out and Trunks cringed.  Apparently bringing up his father was not a good idea.  Realizing that his mother's mood was shifting again, Trunks went back to staring at his hands.  It would be best if he just let his mother fume until they arrived at their shopping destination.  

            Bulma felt a little bad about snapping at her son.  It wasn't his fault that she was mad at Vegeta.  Oh well, it was just best if they didn't talk.  Then there was no chance of her taking out her anger on an unsuspecting Trunks.  Bulma couldn't believe her husband at times.  Last night, Vegeta and she had had such a lovely time.  It wasn't often that they got to spend that much time alone, and they had taken full advantage of the fact.  Yet, this morning, Vegeta had decided that he had been nice enough during this past week and it was time to go back to being an insensitive prick.  She wanted to tell Trunks the news that he was going to be a big brother with Vegeta by her side.  She knew that there was a good possibility that Trunks would not take the idea of having a new brother or sister well.  He had been an only child for so long that Bulma knew he would see a new baby as a threat, as competition for the affection of his parents.  Therefore, Bulma wanted to reassure her baby boy on how much they loved him and that a baby would not change that.  But, Vegeta decided that training was more important.

            _"Bulma, the boy is a Saiyan prince.  He does not need to be pampered.  Just tell him the damn news and be done with it.  If he doesn't like the idea ,that's  too bad.  He'll just have to learn to live with it."_

Bulma bristled as she thought of Vegeta's words to her earlier.  Ignoring one's feelings was never the solution.  If anyone should know that it should be Vegeta.  Oh well, she guessed some things would never change with the stubborn Saiyan Prince.  She for one didn't want her son to hate his future sibling and, thus, she was going to handle this situation gently.  Bulma then looked over at her pride and joy and slowly shook her head in disbelief.  Nothing could have prepared her for coming over to the Son's house this morning to find her normally lavender-haired son with an ebony mane and matching eyebrows.  Chi-chi had apologized profusely, feeling terrible that she was not around to stop the incident.  The boys had done it last night when they were supposed to be asleep.  Apparently they had stolen some of Chi-chi's dye she kept for covering her gray from her bedroom during the day after Goten had remarked about Trunks not looking like a Saiyan.  Well, at least the dye would wash out in time.  It was actually kind of eerie how much the boy looked like a mini-Vegeta.  If his eyes were black, they would be exactly duplicates.

            Bulma landed the jet in the parking lot of the new mall outside West City and looked over at her mischievous son.  "Ready?"  She asked with a small smile, her offering of an apology for her earlier moodiness.  Trunks smiled brilliantly and shook his head vigorously.  After the two had exited the jet, Bulma quickly capsuled the aircraft and held out her hand to her son.  Ducking his head in embarrassment, Trunks reluctantly indulged his mother and took her hand, letting her lead them through open-air mall.  Trunks didn't hold on to his mom's hand for long, as they entered a two-story toy store.  His eyes lighting up in anticipation, Trunks laughed and then sprinted off toward the video game section.

            "Come on Mom!"  Trunks called over his shoulder.  Bulma smiled in spite of herself at her son's show of childish glee.  After everything that had happened last year, Bulma was grateful to have the chance to let her son just be a child.  After choosing out the latest games for his Playstation and Gamecube, along with the appropriate player's guides, Trunks literally dragged his mother on over another part of the store to look at some action figures.  Trunks took excruciating time picking out which figures he felt he needed and then looked over at his mother.  

            "Are we done yet?"  She asked with a small smile.  Trunks took a quick glance over the rest of the action figures before him.

            "I think so Mom.  The only part of the store I haven't touched is the Barbie section."  The young boy responded, his nose scrunching up in disgust at the thought of such girlie toys.  Bulma saw her son's face and laughed.

            "Are you sure you don't want to take a look on over there my boy?  I'm sure we could find something you could play with."  The scientist teased.  Trunks eyes widened and his entire face screamed revulsion.  Bulma laughed again, though harder this time.  Trunks eyes then furrowed in annoyance, a frown gracing his young features.  He didn't like being made fun of, even if it was his mother doing the jesting.  Wiping away a tear that had escaped the confines of her eyelashes, Bulma saw the change in her son's demeanor and started laughing again.  "Oh Trunks, stop making that face or it will stay that way and then you will definitely look like your father."

            "I thought you liked the way Dad looked."  Trunks countered.

            "I do, but not that scowl.  It just puts wrinkles on your face."  Bulma replied with a wave of her hand.  The two then went and paid for all of Trunks' loot and arranged for the packages to be delivered to Capsule Corporation.  With that all taken care of, and Trunks reading through one of the player's guides to the games he just bought, the mother and son walked over to the ice cream parlor.  Bulma bought a double chocolate cone, while her son and his huge Saiyan appetite bought a full tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream; his favorite.  Walking back outside of the parlor, the two found a seat at the tables situated outside.  Trunks stood up on his chair so that he could reach into his huge tub of ice cream.  Once the two had eaten in silence for a little while, Bulma looked at her son and noticed that he looked quite content, if not a little messy.  Ice cream covered his lips and hands as he quickly scooped out more of his sugary treat.  Before Bulma could start a conversation with her son, his hand shot up to his head.

            "Ouch!"  He called out in true pain.  After a few seconds, Trunks playfully fell into his chair.  "Oh, the pain.  The pain!  Brain freeze!"  He said overdramatically after his pain had truly subsided.

            "That's what you get for attempting to eat five gallons of ice cream in five minutes."  Bulma said scolding, yet with a smile on her face.  "Now, no more fooling around.  Eat your ice cream slowly.  I have to talk to you and I can't have you interrupting every five seconds, ok?"  Trunks noted his mother's serious tone and likewise became somber, nodding his head in understanding.  "As you already know, I have been sick the last couple of days and I'm going to be sick for some time more.  However, I do know what it wrong with me and can combat the sickness now."

            "Well that's good to hear!  How long are you going to be sick?"  Trunks asked in concern.  "It isn't anything serious, is it?"

            "No, it is nothing serious, and I don't know how long I am going to be feeling sick.  Probably for a couple of months at least.  Some days will be better than others, but it won't stop me from getting out of bed everyday.  Anyway, I guess I should just cut to the chase.  I don't know any other way to say this, so here goes.  Trunks, I'm going to have a baby."  Trunks blinked and then cocked his head to one side as though confused.

            "What?"  He asked in complete shock.

            "I'm pregnant, sweetie.  In about eight months you are going to have a little brother or sister."  Bulma said in a soft voice, not trying to seem too excited over the baby.  She didn't want Trunks to think she thought the baby was more important than him.

            "Really?"  Trunks inquired, looking down at his mother's stomach as though searching for any sign of the baby within.

            "Yes really.  You won't be able to tell for a few more months honey."  Bulma said with a  slight smile, noticing her son's inspection of her midsection.   The smile fell off of her face as she asked her next question.  "What do you think?  About having a new brother or sister?"

            "I don't know.  I think it could be kind of cool.  It would be someone to play with, to train with, and protect."  Trunks paused at that thought and suddenly her brightened up considerably.  "Hey!  I would be like Gohan, wouldn't I?  I could be the best big brother ever!  Cool!  I hope it is a little brother, then it would be like Gohan and Goten!"

            Bulma smiled at her son's unexpected excitement over the thought of being a big brother.  Well this was going much, much better than she had expected.  She then thought of something.  "Trunks, what about if the baby is a girl?  What would you think then?"  Immediately Trunk's face fell.

            "Well, I don't know.  What could I do with a sister?  That wouldn't be any fun.  So, just don't have a girl, ok Mom?"  Trunks said in all seriousness.  

            "Trunks, I can't choose whether I have a boy or a girl.  It doesn't work that way."

            "I hope it is a boy then.  A sister would be boring."  Trunks said pouting.  Bulma sighed.  This was something she hadn't expected.  She didn't think the sex of the baby would have been a concern of Trunks.

            "So you are telling me that you wouldn't love your future sibling if it were a girl?"

            "I didn't say that!"  Trunks said defensively, not liking how his mother phrased that.  He didn't think he could hate a member of his family, he would love a sister if that was what he had.  He just didn't have to like her.  Bulma could tell by her son's look that he still did not like the idea of having a sister.  Oh well, she would cross that bridge when it came about.  She wouldn't even know the sex of the baby for a while.

            "We can talk about this later.  Considering that we won't know whether you are having a boy or a girl for just a little while longer, there is no need for me to try and convince you of the joys of having a younger sibling, boy or girl.  I just want you to know how much I love you baby.  Nothing will ever change that.  Remember that, if nothing else."  Bulma said genuinely.  She then leaned over and kissed her son on the cheek.  

            "Mom!"  Trunks squeaked in embarrassment.  He then rubbed his cheek as though it was contaminated.  Bulma laughed and patted her son's hand.

            "Come on Trunks.  Finish your ice cream, we have to be getting home soon."

            "So you can yell at Dad?"  Trunks asked around a mouth full of ice cream.

            "No.  I'm not going to yell."  Bulma replied.  "Somehow I think your father is going to be needing as many days of peace as he can get.  We all will."  Trunks just looked over at his mother, whom was smirking in a fashion that would make Vegeta proud.  Not quite knowing what his mother was talking about, the ebony haired boy shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating his ice cream.

Hey everyone!  Sorry about the delay in the updates.  I've had a lot on my mind recently, plus I went to Cedar Point for a couple of days.  Anyway, this chapter was more of a filler chapter than anything else.  Now that everyone in the Vegeta-Briefs family knows about the baby, we can move forward into the future and see how they deal with the pregnancy.  I know I can't wait to see what hijinks will occur.  Anyway, let me know what you think of this chapter.  And thanks to everyone that has reviewed!  You are all much, too nice.

Until Next Time…


	8. Three Months Later

You're What?! Chapter 8: Three Months Later

            Trunks panted heavily, his eyes darting quickly around the room.  Then, faster than the normal eye could see, he spun around and blocked a punch that would have hit him square in the back of his head.  Knocking away the larger fist, Trunks fell to the ground and attempted to take his attacker's feet out from under him; however, he wasn't fast enough and his opponent easily jumped out of the way.  Rolling onto his back and flipping back up onto his feet, Trunks once again went on the offensive, throwing numerous kicks and punches.  They were all blocked with the greatest of ease and Trunks let out a low growl of frustration, which only caused his adversary to smirk and let out a small chuckle of amusement at the boy's spirit.  Trunks, mistaking the smirk to be mocking his inability to hit his sparring partner, quickly thrust his hands forward and let off a ki blast.  His target immediately phased out, completely dodging the blast and reappeared directly behind the lavender-haired prince.  Before Trunks could react, the man had his arms pinned behind his back.  The boy tried to squirm out of his grasp but found that he couldn't.  Trunks growled again.  He hated losing.

            "I think that is enough for today son."  Vegeta said, letting go of his heir's arms.  Trunks spun around quickly, his eyes lit with a dangerous fire that reminded him so very much of Bulma's eyes when she was in a fit of anger.  He glared up at his father and crossed his arms over his chest, his whole body screaming discontent.

            "That's not fair!  I could have broken out of your hold dad.  I want a rematch."  Trunks stated stubbornly.  Vegeta looked down at the frowning boy and smirked.  He was not used to Trunks showing such enthusiasm for his training, but since Bulma had told him that he was going to be a big brother, his need to be a protector had kicked in.  The boy's recent dedication to his training definitely reminded Vegeta of whose son he was and it made him proud.  Vegeta's smirked broadened into an almost smile: almost.  He would never forget when Bulma had brought the boy home from his overnight visit at Kakarrot's house a little over three months ago.  The Saiyan Prince had almost fallen over to see his normally lavender-haired child with pitch-black hair.  Bulma had not been pleased; however, Vegeta had liked the change.  It did make the boy look more Saiyan.  But then again, aside from the eyes, with his hair dyed black Trunks looked a little too much like his father for Vegeta's liking.  Bulma had called Trunks "mini-me" for the duration of the boy's 'Saiyan experiment', as she so liked to call it and it annoyed Vegeta, and Trunks, to no end.  Looking at the boy before him, Vegeta decided that he definitely did prefer the boy with his natural hair.  He was just the right balance of himself and his mother.

            "You can have a rematch tomorrow.  It's almost time for lunch and I'm starving, so although I appreciate the enthusiasm, you are just going to have to be patient."  Vegeta responded while walking over to the controls of the gravity chamber, and without warning to his son, returned the room back to normal gravity.  

            "Dad!"  Trunks whined as he lost his balance and fell over, suddenly feeling too light due to the drastic change in gravity.  Trunks pushed himself off the ground and glared up at his father, whom returned his look with a blank expression.

            "What?"  The Saiyan Prince asked, as if he had no clue what his son was complaining about.  The boy was just about as easy to bait as his mate was.

            "Nothing," Trunks mumbled as he followed his dad out of the gravity room, staying a safe distance behind him.  Watching his father's back, Trunks slowly smirked, mischief clearly written all over his face.  Oh this meant war.

            Bulma sat on one of the leather couches in the living room, a plethora of food surrounding the immediate area around her.  Now mind you, she wasn't eating all of it.  It was just that she couldn't decide what she wanted to eat.  She'd started out with some Oreo's, but then realized she wanted something salty.  So then she went and got some different bags of potato chips.  But, after eating a few chips, she decided that what she truly wanted were pretzels and saltine crackers.  Those didn't work for long either.  She'd wanted something sweet again; however, the Oreo's still didn't sound appeasing.  That meant she had to raid her personal ice cream stash.  First came chocolate, which she finished off; there wasn't that much left.  Next was vanilla, but that was too plain; hence, the mother-to-be finally settled on rocky road.  After a few bites, Bulma was beginning to feel that urge for something salty again, but it wasn't as strong this time.  So, Bulma being the genius that she is, had decided on a compromise.  She was now using the pretzel twists to spoon out the rocky road ice cream.  In all actuality, it was pretty good.

            Bulma sat camped out on the couch, her comfort foods all around her, as she watched television.  Her soap operas were on, and considering that the blue-haired scientist didn't get the chance to watch daytime TV very often, thanks to her hectic schedule at work, she was going to enjoy this opportunity to its fullest.  

            "Oh, you can't go on commercial now!"  Bulma said to the TV, as though it would do her bidding.  "It was getting to the best part.  I need to know if Ryan is truly Shelly's long lost sister!"  The woman then shuddered at the thought.  "I hope not," she mumbled, as she scooped out some more ice cream, "considering that they just got married."  

The pregnant woman sighed as she watched the commercials that played across the huge screen.  She was about to flip the channel until her show came back on; however, a commercial caught Bulma's attention.  It showed a father dancing with his daughter, who had obviously just gotten married.  Then there was a voice over, apparently the father, who was reminiscing about watching his little girl grow up.  Shots flashed across the screen of a little girl on the beach playing with her father, an older girl playing softball, an even older girl graduating from school, and now getting married.  The man continued to say how hard it is to have to now let his little girl go, for she belongs to someone else, but at least he was there to share in her big day; thanks to Southwest Airlines.  Normally, Bulma would have thought this to be a stupid commercial, it was way too sentimental for an airplane commercial.  But, seeming as how her hormones were out of whack, thanks to the bundle of joy she was carrying, Bulma found herself crying hysterically.  That was how Trunks and Vegeta found her as they entered the living room on their way up to their rooms to shower.

Both males froze mid-step at the sight of Bulma and exchanged glances of dread, looking for all the world like two deer caught in the headlights.  Vegeta motioned for the boy to be quiet and go back the other way.  Hell, he could just hop out a window and fly on over to his room.  It was a lot easier than having to deal with an overly emotional pregnant mate!  Trunks nodded and quickly turned to leave when a cleaning-bot came rolling into the room.

"Good afternoon sirs," the machine greeted as programmed and continued on its way to the now empty gravity room.  Bulma immediately turned from her position on the couch and stared at the men in her life with teary eyes.  Trunks slapped his forehead, flabbergasted that a stupid robot had blown their cover, while Vegeta raised his arm to blast the meddling robot.  Trunks, seeing the murderous glint in Vegeta's eyes, quickly jumped on his father's arm and lowered it.  Blowing up one of his mom's robots was not going to be the way to settle her down.

"Oh Trunks," Bulma said between sniffles, "Vegeta.  Am I glad you are here." 

"What's wrong Mom?"  Trunks asked, rushing over to sit next to his mother when he saw all of the food scattered around her.  Grabbing the bag of Oreo's, Trunks started munching on the cookies as he sat facing his mother.  Bulma looked at her son, her baby, sitting in front of her.  He was growing up so fast.  She could remember when he was just a toddler.  His first steps, his first words, his first training session with his father.  The days when she still tucked him in at night and read him a story.  But those days were long gone.  Soon Trunks wouldn't need her at all!  Therefore, instead of answering her son, Bulma just started sobbing even more.  Vegeta, who was still standing behind Bulma shot his son a glare that pretty much said: _Way to go.  Now she is even worse than before._  Trunks looked at his mother in confusion.  What had he said?  Well, one thing was for sure; Trunks had no idea what to do.

"Well, since everything seems to be in control down here, I think I'll go freshen up for lunch."  Trunks said all in a rush, and before Vegeta could stop the boy, he had raced upstairs, a trail of Oreo's in his wake.  Great.  Just Great.  Now Vegeta was down here all alone with a mate that was crying hysterically.  What was he supposed to do?  Vegeta turned his eyes skyward.  Someone up there had a twisted sense of humor.  To think him, the Prince of all Saiyans, attempting to calm a hormonal female.  It just didn't compute.  Well, he wasn't going to be getting anywhere if he didn't know what was wrong.

"Bulma, what is bothering you?"  Vegeta asked gruffly, as he came around to shut off the TV.  Bulma looked up at him with red, puffy eyes, sniffling quite loudly.  She started swiping at the tears that were coursing down her face and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.  She knew Vegeta hated it when she cried, and by his tone of voice, he was not happy about talking to her right now.  Who was she kidding?  All she ever did was make her husband mad at her.  Vegeta watched helplessly as his wife appeared to be settling down on her own accord, but then just as quickly started crying all over again.  This was getting ridiculous.  "Woman," Vegeta called over her wailing, stating the title he used only when he was getting angry," what are you crying about.  Both Trunks and I have asked and you have not answered.  How can either one of us _attempt_ to help if you won't talk?  Perhaps I should just leave you—"  Vegeta never got to finish his sentence as Bulma finally spoke up.

"I knew it!  You're going to leave me again, aren't you?  Just like with Trunks."  She bawled, not listening to the rational part of her mind that told her she was just being silly.  All Vegeta had planned on saying was that he was going to leave her to cry by herself, not actually leave her forever.

"If you truly believe that then you are a bigger dolt than I thought."  Vegeta snapped, somewhat hurt that she would accuse him of such a thing, emotions or not.  Bulma hiccupped a few times as she tried to control her sobs; her anger starting to cut through the depression that had come on.

"How dare you come in here and insult me!"  Bulma yelled, getting up off the couch to stand before her husband.  "You have no idea what is bothering me and it is not like you care either."

"I don't know what is wrong because you won't tell me!"

"You could have asked nicely!"

"I don't do nice."  Vegeta practically spat out.  By now, Bulma's index finger was jabbing at his chest and her eyes flashed with that same fire he had seen in Trunks' eyes earlier.  The prince took his mate's hand and forcibly removed it from his chest.  He hated it when she would poke him during an argument.  "Now," Vegeta began through clenched teeth, "will you tell me what is wrong?  You are moodier than normal today."

"Well excuse me!"  Bulma exclaimed, throwing her arms up in frustration.  "I am so sorry that my emotions are an inconvenience to you.  How do you think I feel?  Huh?  I'm the one that has to deal with these ridiculous mood swings.  Do you know what it is like to be completely happy one minute and then depressed and crying for no apparent reason the next minute?  I don't think you do."  She stressed this last point by once again jabbing her index finger at Vegeta's chest, punctuating each word.

"Of course I don't know how it feels.  I'm not a silly female.  Thank Dende for that!"  Vegeta threw back at his wife.  "How do you think I feel?  I have to put up with your emotional bullshit for the next five months."

"What do you want Vegeta?  A medal?"

"What?"  Vegeta asked confused.  He had no idea what she was talking about.  Why would he want a medal?  "Don't try changing the subject with me Bulma."

Bulma rolled her eyes at her mate's lack of understanding.  Suddenly she just felt drained, she didn't want to fight anymore, she just wanted to sit down and rest.  Turning her back to Vegeta she went back to the couch and sat down and put her head in her hands.  Vegeta growled as he looked at his mate, berating himself for how awfully he had handled the situation.  He knew it wasn't Bulma's fault she was as messed up as she was, it apparently happened to most human females when they became pregnant.  It was just that Vegeta didn't know how to handle his emotional mate, anything he said seemed to either make her fall into a blind fury or into hysterical sobs.  He couldn't win.  That's why, overall, he tried to avoid her like the plague whenever she was like this.

"You know what Vegeta?"  She asked rhetorically.  "I don't care any more.  I'm tired and I don't need to waste my energy arguing with you.  I'm sorry that I bothered you."  She then got up off of the couch slowly and started to leave the room.  Bulma wasn't surprised in the least when she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist, halting her progress.  Vegeta held his mate closely, his hand resting on the small bulge of her stomach where the baby was beginning to show.

"Where do you think you are going, woman?"  Vegeta spoke softly into her ear, his voice both threatening and seductive.

"I'm going to the library."  She answered simply.

"You never told me what was wrong."  He said in an eerily calm voice.  

"There is nothing wrong Vegeta," Bulma replied, frustration creeping into her tone of voice.  "There was just something on TV that made me start thinking depressing thoughts.  My hormones did the rest.  Is that ok with you?"  She felt herself be spun around none to gently, and she stared up into the face of her husband.  Although his face did not reveal anything, Bulma could tell he was pissed.  You could see it in his eyes.

"You will not take that tone of voice with me!  I may not be the best at dealing with emotions, but I was at least trying.  You are doing nothing but throwing my attempts at _kindness_ back in my face."  Vegeta hissed, almost choking on the word 'kindness' as though it almost killed him to say it.  "Perhaps you would like it if I handled things like I did when you carried Trunks.  Is that it?"  The angered prince said in a deadly whisper, causing Bulma to shiver.  "That can be arranged."  And without any warning, Bulma was released from her husbands grasp and he was gone.   

            Bulma quickly raced up the stairs and into their bedroom, assuming that was where her husband had fled.  Glancing around, Bulma found the room to be empty.  Crossing the room she pushed open the door to the master bathroom and was disappointed to find it as deserted as the bedroom.

            "Vegeta?"  Bulma called, hoping her furious mate could hear her calls.  She hated it when she pushed Vegeta too far.  Sometimes she just didn't know when to quit.  "Vegeta, I'm sorry!"  She came out into the hall and looked about wildly.  He wasn't coming.  "Oh Vegeta, please come back."  She whispered to herself as she started back down the stairs to check the Gravity Room.  Just as she had expected, Vegeta was not there.  With a sinking pit in her stomach, Bulma slid down the wall next to the GR's door.  She knew Vegeta would not be anywhere on Capsule Corps. grounds.  He was mad and insulted.  She just hoped he didn't stay that way for long, or else she couldn't guess the next time she would see her husband.

Like always, please read and review.  The last chapter didn't receive too many reviews and I'm beginning to think that people may be losing interest in this story.  I hope not!  But if that is the case, I may just discontinue it and work on other projects.  I'm not trying to sound rude….but, I thrive off of feedback! ;)  Thanks to those of you who did review!  I truly appreciate it.

Until Next Time… 


	9. Realizations

You're What?! Chapter 9: Realizations

            Vegeta collapsed after blasting yet another outcropping of rocks, his hair fading back to its normal inky blackness.  Breathing heavily after physically dispelling his pent up anger, the Saiyan Prince rolled over onto his back and stared up at the stars.  His eyes instantly fell on his home planet and he sighed.  It was both comforting and eerie to be able to look up into the sky and see a vision of the planet he was once destined to rule.  At rare times, like these, Vegeta would wonder what life would have been like had his planet never been blown up.  One thing was for sure; he wouldn't be sitting out in a desert covered in dirt, venting the anger his stubborn, over-emotional mate had elicited.  But then again, he wouldn't have his precious mate or his mischievous son.  Somehow, Vegeta knew that if given the choice to never have been in Frieza's clutches and growing up on the planet Vegeta or living his life as he had; he would endure the tortures of Frieza's army a hundred times over to be with his family.  

            Vegeta tore his gaze away from the illusion that his planet was, and growled.  Thinking of what-ifs would get him nowhere.  What was done was done, and there was no way the past was going to change itself, so why bother thinking about it?  Instead, Vegeta's thoughts turned toward the source of his aggravation: Bulma.  Vegeta knew that his wife was not totally in control of her emotions, due to the brat she now carried; however, the prince did not think he was unjustified in being angry with her.  She was the one that was so concerned about him staying with her during this pregnancy, she was the one who got worried sick about his reaction to the baby, and yet, when it comes to trying to help she yells at him and throws his attempts back in his face!  His temper flaring up again, Vegeta raised his hands and sent a ki-blast hurtling up into the heavens with a scream of frustration.  What the hell did she want from him?

            Putting his hands behind his head, Vegeta continued to search the stars, as though they held the answers to his dilemma.  Perhaps he should just leave for the duration of the pregnancy and come back when the brat was born.  That way he wouldn't have to degrade himself by attempting to be all comforting and emotional only to have it casually batted away and called not good enough.  Because that was what Bulma was practically telling him, right?  His attempts at making her feel better weren't good enough, so why should he stick around?  She apparently didn't need him, and he definitely could not put up with her constant bitching and moaning.  He had been willing to try things her way, to stay around and be the 'loving' husband.  But this just wasn't working.  He was not going to go tiptoeing around his wife just because she could blow up in a flurry of emotions at any second.  He did things as he pleased and he was not going to rearrange his life because she "needed" him.    There was no way that he could watch every phrase he uttered, monitor every move he made, just to make sure Bulma was happy.

            Abruptly, Vegeta stood up.  His mind was set, he would go on back to Capsule Corp., grab the nearest stocked spaceship, and he would be gone.  Levitating off the ground, the prince blasted off toward his home.  His home.  Vegeta stopped in mid-air and blinked at that thought.  Never in the all the years he had lived at Capsule Corporation had he called the place his home.  What had made him do so now?  Floating on back down to the ground, his arms crossed firmly across his chest, he started walking on back toward Capsule Corp.  Perhaps he needed more time to think this through, walking home would give him that time.

            Was Capsule Corp. his home?  He had certainly lived there longer than anywhere else in his entire life.  He had to admit that he enjoyed the luxuries of the gigantic house.  But no, he was fooling himself.  He liked the house, but that wasn't why he thought of it as his home, it was due to a blue-haired vixen, a rambunctious boy, and a yet to be born terror.  Even despite his anger and misgiving about what he should do, Vegeta smirked at the thought of his family.  His family had taught him what it felt like to be love; to be cared for no matter what happened in life.  No matter how badly he had messed up in the past, his mate and his son had always stood by his side with quiet support and love.  It was because of them that he had a home, and it was in that instant that Vegeta realized that wherever his family was would always be his home.  No matter how mad he might be at his wife, there was no way he could possibly leave her or his son.

            Vegeta stopped walking due to the shock of this discovery, for it was one he had never consciously made, even if his heart had known the truth for years.  He had known over the years that he had grown fond of his family.  Hell, he had even given his life for them; something he would have never thought possible even five years ago.  Yet, even after sacrificing himself for their safety, Vegeta had never fully admitted to himself how important his family was.  He loved them, at least as well as he could.  _They were his life_.  This knowledge hit him like a ton of bricks and his arms fell to his sides as he became as still as a statue.  He had not sacrificed himself in an attempt to kill Buu just to protect Bulma and Trunks, but also because he knew that without his family he had no life at all.  It was better to kill yourself to save those you love, to make sure that they are safe, than to live in a world where they do not exist. 

            Vegeta finally moved, his shock subsiding, and turned his eyes once again toward the heaven above, almost as though seeking solace in the vision of his desecrated planet.  It was the vision of what he had lost and also of what he had gained.  Thoughts of his past, a life that seemed so distant to him now, floated through his brain.  Ever so slowly, a smirk spread across Vegeta's face and he let out a low chuckle when he thought of a particular desire he had held for many years: to be immortal.  It was ironic really.  He had spent many agonizing hours, and had even died, attempting to reach that one goal.  After the whole Namek episode, Vegeta had given up on thoughts of immortality, believing that he would never had it.  It wasn't until this past hour that he realized that he had achieved his immortality well over nine years ago and would do so again in about five months.  His children.  A piece of him would always live on through them.  They were his legacy, and at that moment, Vegeta could not think of a better legacy to leave behind.

            Vegeta tore his eyes away from his previous home and turned back toward Capsule Corp.  There was no way Vegeta could go back there and express everything that he had just now discovered about himself.  He could not return back home and confess his undying love to his mate and child; but then again, they did not expect him too.  Somehow, they knew.  They knew he loved them, even when he himself did not know.  The proud Saiyan Prince shot up into the sky once again, his mind made up.  He would return to his family.  He knew it would not be smooth sailing, and this was far from the last fight he and his wife would ever have, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Hey everyone!  I know, I know.  This chapter is pretty short.  I was going to make it longer, but then I decided that I liked this chapter's focus on Vegeta and some of the thoughts going through his head.  The next chapter should be out pretty soon, considering that I already have most of it thought up…it was going to be the ending to this chapter! J

I would like to address some reviews I have gotten, and don't worry, it is nothing bad.  I just want to clarify some things.  First of all, I know a few of you have been telling me that Vegeta is out of character.  I know he may seem a little 'softer' (if that is the right word to use with Vegeta), but I am trying to portray Vegeta's evolution into a man that goes to the mall willingly, a man that seems comfortable at his home, a man that becomes worried about his appearance (aka the mustache incident we see in GT).  I think through out the series there have been enough subtle hints about Vegeta's behavior with his family to assume that in the comfort of his own home, he may be a little more open about his emotions than when other people are around.  Don't fret though, the arrogant Vegeta will show himself in a later chapter when the group has a get together.  Second, for anyone that may be confused, you can have sex while you are pregnant.  It is a personal choice for every couple to make, but no harm will come to the baby if you decide you can't hold out. ;)  (hint, hint….I don't think Bulma and Vegeta could make-up with out any physical contact.)

Anyway, I think that covers everything for now.  Please let me know what you think!  I loved all the reviews I received last time, thanks to all of you that took the time to do so.  Let's keep it up!  The button is only a short click away.

Until Next Time…


	10. Reconciliation

You're What?! Chapter 10: Reconciliation 

            Bulma pulled her robe tighter around herself as a gentle breeze blew across the balcony of her master  bedroom.  The gloriously warm summer nights were quickly fading into the crisp evenings of autumn, and the weather was not completely appealing to be holding a vigil.  However, waiting out on the balcony for Vegeta's return, until sheer exhaustion forced Bulma to retreat to her bed, was a habit she had practiced since her mate had left her during Trunks' pregnancy.  She could never predict when her brooding prince would return to her, and she hated it when she missed his arrival.  Not rain, nor cold weather, would deter Bulma from her watch of the skies, in hopes she may catch a sparkle on the edge of the horizon signaling her husband's return.  Although, more times than not, she was never able to stay awake long enough to see his return, Bulma still stubbornly searched the heavens.

            The mother-to-be felt a light stirring in her stomach and smiled.  She was just recently starting to feel more and more predominant signs of movement from the baby.  Soon she would be able to feel actual kicks and movements of the baby.  Bulma unconsciously rubbed her stomach, in a maternal gesture all pregnant women made, as though she was attempting to sooth the life that dwelt within her womb.  Yawning suddenly, the blue-haired scientist cursed softly to herself.  She had forgotten how much energy it took to carry the child of a Saiyan.  She didn't know if she would be able to stay outside much longer.  Her bed was beckoning to her, and at that moment, Bulma wanted nothing more than to heed that call.  Glancing desperately around the sky one last time, Bulma sighed and turned away from her spot on the balcony.

            Bulma entered hers and Vegeta's bedroom and slowly shut the huge double French doors behind her, but did not lock them, just in case a certain someone decided to come home.  She pulled the heavy, floor-length ivory tapestries across the doors, blotting out the trickle of light that the stars cast upon the room.  Not even waiting for her eyes to adjust to the complete darkness that now filled the room, Bulma padded her way on over to her bed.  She quickly discarded her robe and kicked off her slippers, before climbing into the huge, four-poster bed.  She curled up on Vegeta's side of the bed and sighed once again.  It didn't look like Vegeta was going to be back any time tonight.  A tear fell down Bulma's cheek and landed upon her husband's pillow.  In that moment, Bulma wanted nothing else than to be in Vegeta's arms, everything forgiven and forgotten.

            "Oh Vegeta, I'm so sorry."  She whispered to the room, almost as though her mate could hear her apology.

            "Maybe I am too," a rough voice said from the far corner of the room.  Bulma sat straight up in bed, her hand going to her chest in a vain attempt to still the rapid beat of her heart after receiving such a shock.

            "Vegeta?" Bulma managed to squeak out.  She swung her legs over the side of the bed and was about to turn on the lamp situated on the nightstand, when a hand reached out and took her hand.

            "Who else would you be expecting in our bedroom?"  The Saiyan Prince said, light amusement could be heard in his voice.  He had cleaned up on the other side of the compound after his excursion into the desert and was now dressed in a pair of his favorite sweat pants from the Gravity Room and a plain white tank top.  

            "Oh, I don't know, perhaps the devastating handsome man I call upon whenever you are not around."  Bulma quipped back, recovering from her initial shock of Vegeta's arrival.  

            "Well, now I know you are lying."  Vegeta responded deadpan.  "There is no one as devastatingly handsome as me."  He then sat down on the bed next to his wife, her hand still held in his own.  Bulma shifted slightly so that she was looking at her mate, taking her free hand, she placed it along side his face.

            "Vegeta.  I'm sorry about earlier.  I didn't mean to get so angry with you.  You did nothing wrong, you were just trying to help me and I treated you so badly!"  She sighed and lowered her head.  Taking a deep breath, she looked back up and directly into Vegeta's eyes.  "I am so happy that you are here.  I don't think you will ever know just how much I appreciate your presence during this.  I know I have been difficult lately.  I'll try and control my emotions better, I really will.  I love you Vegeta," and before he could react, Bulma threw her arms around her husband and held onto him as tightly as she could.  Slowly, Vegeta slipped one arm around his lover's waist and pulled her closer.  She was intoxicating; she always had been to him and thus, he could endure her embrace.  Normally, Vegeta did not like to hug, but for now he would allow it.  Besides, it was actually quite nice.

            "I accept your apology."  Vegeta whispered into her hair.  He then pulled back slightly, his classic smirk gracing his face.  "But, do not expect an apology in return."  Bulma looked up at her husband with an almost confused expression before a smile spread across her face and she started laughing.  She once again pressed herself against her mate and continued laughing.  Vegeta knew it was a release of nervous tension on her part, but he couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at her reaction.  Bulma wiped away a tear that had escaped during her laughter and glanced up at Vegeta's face.

            "You know what is so funny?"  Bulma asked between her subsiding giggles.  Realizing the question to be rhetorical, Vegeta didn't respond and sure enough, Bulma continued talking.  "I think this is the first time that you haven't had to apologize for something."  She then paused and let out a small laugh.  "If you could ever say that you do apologize.  I don't think you have ever said that you are sorry, but that's ok.  I know."  Before she could say anymore, Vegeta placed a finger to her lips silencing her.

            "Bulma, you are rambling."  Vegeta stated.  He had always thought that her inability to stay quiet was her biggest flaw.  When he first moved here, he truly thought he would kill the woman.  She just never knew when to shut up.  Luckily, he had learned to live with her chattiness.  Bulma looked over at her husband and bit her lower lip, a sure sign of nervousness.  Vegeta raised his eyes to the ceiling and suppressed the urge to sigh.  "Bulma, I'm not mad.  Not anymore, so stop worrying about it."

            "I know.  But I still feel so bad.  It wasn't until you were gone that I realized how horrible I was to you.  I also started thinking about what I would do if you didn't come back.  Now wait," Bulma said, holding up a hand when she saw that Vegeta was going to interrupt her, "I am not saying that I truly believed you would abandon me forever.  But just the thought alone is beyond terrifying.  I just want to be sure you know how much you mean to me, Vegeta.  I know I may say it a lot, but I know words can be empty.  I guess I worry that I don't show you enough."  Bulma quickly scowled as she saw Vegeta's eyebrow arc at her confession and he stared at her as though she was crazy.  They stayed that way for a few moments.

"Stop looking at me like that.  It's unnerving."  At the sound of her voice, the Saiyan monarch seemed to snap back to reality and his face went back to its normal stoniness.  Continuing to look at his mate, Vegeta slowly gave into the smirk that was tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Woman," he began, knowing it would get a rise out of his mate, "for someone who is supposedly so incredibly intelligent as you are, you make some of the most foolish deductions."

"What?"  She practically screeched, totally caught off guard by the sudden insult, especially when she had just poured her heart out to Vegeta.  "Where did that comment come from?"  Bulma snapped, trying very hard to control her temper.  She didn't want an encore of that afternoon's fight.  Vegeta, on the other hand, only let his smirk widen into an almost smile: almost.  Even after all these years, Vegeta found nothing more attractive than his mate.  He thought her even more alluring when she was slightly angry: her cheeks would take on a rosy blush, her eyes would darken and come alive with an inner fire, and her breaths would quicken, causing her chest to rise and fall rather enticingly.  Vegeta slowly let the smirk fall from his face, he couldn't be having such thoughts just yet.  He needed to finish up this blasted conversation first; stupid humans and their infernal need to "talk" things through.

"I said what I meant Bulma.  You make lousy assumptions.  To think, you actually sit around and worry about whether or not I question your feelings for me.  It is rather laughable.  I have never once doubted what you felt for me.  I have never felt threatened by another, nor have I worried that you may be losing your," he paused, trying to determine how he could finish this sentence without having to use the word love, "fondness toward me.  If anything, one would think you would be the one doubting me.  I don't participate in all of your ridiculous human shows of affection, so if that is how you judge if a mate loves you, then I would definitely fail."  Vegeta finished flippantly, not believing for a moment that Bulma doubted his love of her.  He was just trying to make a point.  

Luckily, despite her lack of common sense at times, Bulma's intelligence quickly grasped the point he was delivering to her.  Although they might both show it in different ways, they both loved each other and nothing was going to change that.  Since they both knew of each other's undying devotion to the other, there was no need for Bulma to worry herself over such things again.  Bulma smiled lightly at her husband's cryptic message and she suddenly sprang forward.  In one of the rare moments Vegeta was ever off guard, the prince found himself practically tackled as his wife threw her arms around him and kissed him, pushing them both down onto the bed.  She then pulled back and did something Vegeta hated: she kissed the tip of his nose.  Despite the low growl he let out, Bulma laughed and hugged her husband tighter.

"I love you Vegeta."  She whispered and let out a content sigh as she rested her head in the crook of Vegeta's neck.  

"I guess I can tolerate you."  Vegeta responded while stroking his wife's hair.  Bulma shifted her position and propped herself up on one elbow.  Looking down at her husband as he lay flat on his back, the blue-haired beauty rolled her eyes.

"Someday monkey-boy, you are going to say you love me.  I know it."  She said with conviction, one of her fingers going to lightly poke Vegeta in the chest.  Vegeta took the offending hand and placed it over his heart.

"I wouldn't bet my life on that."  

"Oh, I think I would my prince.  I think I would indeed."  Bulma smirked before leaning down and kissing her husband lightly on the lips.

"Whatever you say, Bulma."  Vegeta answered in a distracted voice.  He was done talking.  It was time to move on to the best part of making up.  Pulling his mate toward him and carefully rolling her over so she was on her back and he was above her, Vegeta kissed Bulma and then began to lightly trail kisses down her neck.  Bulma moaned and arched her back slightly as Vegeta's hands started to roam over her body.  Following suit, Bulma nipped and kissed Vegeta's neck as she worked feverishly at pulling up his tank top so that she could at least run her hands up his bare back and chest.  Catching on to his mate's struggles, Vegeta pulled away for but a moment and removed the hindrance before capturing her lips in another searing kiss.

Breaking away once again, Vegeta skimmed his hands down the sides of Bulma's body and came to rest at the lace-trimmed bottom of her silk nightgown.  Knowing that there would be hell to pay if he ripped the fragile garment, Vegeta waited as his mate raised her arms, permitting him to slide it off.  Now Vegeta allowed himself to smirk as he looked down at his almost naked mate.  Vegeta placed both his hands on Bulma's thighs and slowly drew them up her body and leaned back down for a kiss.  Once again, Bulma ran her hands up her mates back, than ran her nails lightly back on down.  

Vegeta was kissing his way back down Bulma's neck, fully intending on moving to his wife's breasts, when Bulma let out a gasp.  Normally, Vegeta would revel in the sound of Bulma gasping at his ministrations; however, this was not a gasp he had ever heard her make during their foreplay or lovemaking, this was a gasp of surprise.  Immediately, Vegeta stopped what he was doing and looked up at his mate.

"What's wrong?  Are you ok?"  Vegeta asked, his voice holding none of the worry he had felt jolt through him at the sound of his mate's gasp.  Needless to say, his first thoughts were that something was happening with the baby.  Even though he wasn't there for the majority of her pregnancy with Trunks, he knew she had a difficult time carrying his son.  Although he would never admit it to anyone but himself, he was worried about her health.  It was something that was always at the back of his mind and would remain there until this brat was born.  Any fears he had, suddenly vanished as he gazed on his wife's face.  A goofy grin had spread across her face and her eyes were sparkling with joy and wonderment.

"Nothing is wrong."  Bulma exclaimed breathlessly, both her hands shooting to rest on her stomach.  "I just felt the baby move!  I was beginning to get worried that I hadn't felt the baby yet, but I definitely just felt movement.  Here!"  She said excitedly as she grabbed Vegeta's hand placed it over her rounding stomach.  A few moments passed and nothing happened.  Bulma's smile fell away and a look of pure disappointment graced her features.  She let go of Vegeta's hand and let both of her arms fall the her sides.  She now let out a dejected sigh and looked up at her mate with sad eyes.  Inwardly, Vegeta cursed.  The brat wasn't even born yet, and it was already depriving him of sex.  He could tell by Bulma's demeanor that there would be no way he would be getting lucky any time soon.  Perhaps she would be up for an early morning romp.  He could always hope.

"Oh Vegeta, I'm sorry."  Bulma began, her bottom lip slightly sticking out in a small pout.  Vegeta smirked, maybe he had given up to soon.  If she was truly sorry for the interruption to their foreplay, then he could probably seduce her back into the mood.  However, those happy thoughts were quickly dashed as Bulma continued.  "I really wanted to you feel the baby move.  Maybe he or she will move again real soon.  Wouldn't that be great?"  She asked enthusiastically.

"Sure," Vegeta replied, at a loss for what to do or say.  Seeing both her husband's frustration and confusion, Bulma smiled sympathetically.

"Here Vegeta," she said softly while patting the bed next to her.  "Just lie with me, ok?"  Having no other choice, Vegeta complied.  Almost immediately, Bulma had one of his hands and was placing it on her belly.  "We can just lie here for a little while and see if the baby decides to move again.  Trust me, it will be worth it."  She then leaned over and kissed her mate on the cheek before whispering in his ear, "we'll pick up where we left off later.  Don't think I'm letting you off that easy."  

Now content that his fun wasn't going to be totally compromised, Vegeta settled back against the pillows and focused on his mate's stomach.  More specifically, he focused on the little terror she carried with in her.  The ki was strong, but definitely settled.  He doubted the little one was going to be moving any time soon.  He wasn't too concerned about it.  Vegeta was certain there would be plenty of times in the future to feel the movement of the baby from within its mother's womb.  Focusing on the ki one last time, Vegeta couldn't help but smirk.  The baby's ki was definitely strong and definitely something else Vegeta had never really contemplated.  It was now his turn to have a sharp intake of breath.  Bulma's head snapped over to look at her mate.

"What?"  She asked confused as to what could be bothering him.  Vegeta didn't answer at first, he concentrated harder on the baby's ki to make sure he was correct.  Noticing her husband's concentration and his lack of an answer, fear started to overtake Bulma now.  "What?"  She asked again, this time with a more hysterical edge to it.

"I know the sex of the baby."  Vegeta finally blurted out.  Right after the words left his mouth he received a smack to the side of his head.

"Don't scare me like that!  I thought something was wrong with the baby."  Bulma began scolding her husband before Vegeta's remark fully caught up with her.  "Wait, did you just say that you know the sex of the baby?  You know if it is a boy or a girl?"  Vegeta just stared up at the ceiling and nodded.  "Well?"  Bulma screeched with barely controlled excitement.

"It's a girl."  

"A girl!  Oh I have always wanted a little girl!"  She exclaimed and rolled onto her side to embrace her still shocked husband.  Bulma continued to ramble on about the wonders of having a daughter, but Vegeta tuned her out.  This was very unexpected to the Saiyan Prince, in fact he hadn't even thought of it as a possibility.  Female Saiyans were not born to the royal family, only males.  There had never, _never_ been a Saiyan Princess.  How was he supposed to raise a girl?  Hell, he barely knew how to raise a son, although he'd like to think he was getting better over time.  Well, this would be interesting, to say the least.  He had been hoping to be a better parent this time around, now he wasn't so sure he could accomplish that task.  Aside from Bulma, Vegeta had no experience in the behaviors of the female species.  Could he even train a girl?  Would she want to be trained?  Would she look like her mother?  That thought stopped all of Vegeta's other thoughts.  Of course she would be beautiful and that just opened up a whole other can of worms.  In time, he would have to deal with other men wanting his daughter.  Oh, he would be damned if anyone ever laid their paws on her!

Vegeta attempted to calm himself down.  He was getting way to far ahead of himself.  Blasting young would-be suitors would not be happening any time soon.  He just needed to focus on the here and now, and for now, everything was good.  He was here with his mate, his baby, no his _princess,_ was healthy, and he would make the best of it.  He may not know too much about raising a daughter, but he would give it his best shot.  With that settled, he finally tuned back into what Bulma was saying.

"So, how does that sound Vegeta?"  She was just asking as he started listening.

"That sounds fine," Vegeta responded without missing a beat, not wanting to appear like he had not been listening to her the whole time.

"Really?"  Bulma said in surprise.  At that reaction from his wife, Vegeta had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.  He had just agreed to something that Bulma had not expected him to agree to.  Wonderful.  "Oh I am so glad.  We will have so much fun going shopping for the baby tomorrow!  Now we can start picking out cute little dresses and bonnets and shoes!  Thank you Vegeta!"  She then kissed him on the cheek once again before snuggling into his side and closing her eyes, a sure sign that she was going to sleep before Vegeta could change his mind.  

Waiting until his mate was asleep, Vegeta let out a low groan.  This night had definitely not gone according to plan.  He didn't get any sex, he found out his baby was a girl, and to top it all off he inadvertently got roped into going baby shopping.  Perfect.  This night just kept getting better and better.  Too bad tomorrow didn't look like it was going to get any better.  Well, at least his mate was asleep and nothing else could happen.  Vegeta looked up at the ceiling and sighed.  It was official.  Someone up there definitely hated him, or at least liked seeing him suffer.  Shaking his head, the father-to-be slipped an arm around his mate and settled down to go to sleep.  He might as well get some rest before he faced his doom tomorrow.

Sorry for the delay in the update.  I had a slight bout of writer's block.  It took a lot of effort to get this chapter written and I still don't think I like it.  Oh well, hopefully it isn't too bad and all of you continue reading the story.  Some interesting things should be going on next time!  Anyway, thanks to all of you who reviewed.  I appreciate the responses and I was glad to see that many of you don't find my version of Vegeta to be too OOC.  So, lets keep up those reviews.  What can I say?  I thrive off of feedback, and it is the only way I know if I am doing a good job or if there is anything you guys would like to see! ;)  

Until Next Time…


	11. Saiyans and Shopping Don't Mix

You're What?! Chapter 11: Saiyans and Shopping Don't Mix

            "Oh this is _so_ cute!"  Bulma exclaimed as she held up about the one hundredth dress that day.  This one was a lavender and white polka dot outfit with puffy short sleeves, frilly lace at the bottom, and a ribbon that tied into a bow in the back.  "What do you guys think?"  She then turned to the two disgruntle males that accompanied her.  The father, son duo looked at the dress with barely concealed terror and disgust.

            "It's girly Mom."  Trunks stated the obvious, his nose wrinkling in revulsion.

            "Well it is for a girl Trunks.  Besides, it is not like I am asking you to wear it."  Bulma reasoned with a roll of her eyes.  So far, her husband and her son had not been much help on this endeavor.

            "I think what the boy means to say is that the dress is hideously cute.  Girl or not, that child will be a half Saiyan.  There is no way an heir of the Saiyan throne will ever be caught wearing something like that!"  Vegeta stated with a sneer, his arms crossed firmly across his chest.  Despite his dismissal of her choice of dress, Bulma couldn't help but smile lightly.  Her husband was pissed beyond belief about being stuck in this baby boutique, and to her, his displeasure was nothing short of hilarious.

            "Whatever Vegeta.  What would you suggest: tiny battle armor?  I don't think so."  Bulma replied sarcastically.  She then proceeded to drop the dress in the shopping cart beside her as a sign that the debate was over.  She heard Vegeta growl a little more loudly than she would have liked out in public and she sighed.  Luckily no one was around to hear her husband's show of distaste.  "Fine Vegeta, why don't you go and pick out something that you think is suitable."  That seemed to brighten her husband's attitude slightly.  At least it would give him something to do aside from following his wife around like a lost little puppy.  

            "You have a deal, Bulma.  I will find something that will be acceptable for a Saiyan princess."  Vegeta then turned on his heel and headed off toward another section of the store.  Trunks watched his father leave with obvious envy.  Bulma shook her head and put her hand on her little boy's shoulder.

            "Why don't you go keep an eye on your father.  I'm sure I can handle shopping on my own."  Bulma told Trunks in a gentle voice.  Trunks looked up at his mother, his eyes grateful for the chance to get away from all the frills and lace his mother was engrossed in.  Just when it appeared that he was going to agree, his face fell.

            "I can't just leave you here Mom.  You brought us along because you didn't want to go shopping by yourself.  I'll stay here with you."  Trunks said trying to suppress his longing to leave.  Bulma felt pride fill her.  Her son was willing to sacrifice his happiness to stay with her.  What a selfless act.  Bulma smiled lovingly at her son and ruffled his hair affectionately.

            "Sweetie, I'll be fine by myself.  Besides, I am interested in seeing what you two macho men pick out.  So, go on, enjoy yourself."  Trunks looked like he was going to protest once again when Bulma held up a hand.  "Ah, ah, ah.  I am not taking no for an answer Trunks.  Make sure your father behaves himself and pick out something 'acceptable for a Saiyan princess'" She finished, imitating Vegeta's voice as best as she could, which over the years had gotten pretty good.  Trunks broke out into a fit of laughter.  He always loved it when his mother would impersonate his father, it just sounded so funny.

            "Ok Mom, but we will be back soon.  I promise."  Then, glancing around the store to make sure no one was looking, he quickly hugged his mother before running off after his father.  Bulma watched her son leave with a small chuckle at his small show of affection.  She then turned around and picked up another dress for examination.

            Vegeta glanced around the baby store with narrowed eyes.  All this cuteness was too much for his senses but if he had survived hell than he could survive this.  There had to be something in this blasted store that wasn't covered in cuddly teddy bears or pastel colors.  He had witnessed the outfits his mate had dressed Trunks in as an infant and he definitely did not need to relive that fiasco.  One thought of that ridiculous pointy-eared hat was enough to make him shudder.  Walking through the sales racks he searched the clothing for anything his little girl could wear.

            "Hey dad!"  Trunks called out as he dodged around the clothing racks toward his father.  Vegeta turned slightly and eyed his son suspiciously.

            "What are you doing here boy?"  Vegeta snapped.

            "I want to shop with you." Trunks responded while coming to stand at his father's side.  Vegeta took one look at his son and came to his decision.

            "No, now go away."  The prince responded without hesitation.

            "Aw, come on Dad!  Why do I have to suffer over in girly world with mom all by myself?"  Trunks practically whined.

            "Because I am your father, that's why."

            "Yeah, but how much torture can you inflict on me?  You already forced me to come to this stupid place."  Trunks threw back at his father, slight anger coloring his voice.

            "I can inflict as much 'torture' on you as I like.  Torturing you children is one of the joys of parenthood.  I wasn't going to be the only one forced into coming to this accused building.  You can do the same to your children someday.  But for now, I certainly don't need you nipping at my heels.  Now leave me alone boy."  Vegeta stated with a small smirk as he saw the scandalized look on his son's face.   Somehow, kids never found it funny when their parents took pleasure in annoying them.

            "Come on Dad!  You know I'm not going to leave without making a scene that will attract lots of people over here."  Trunks recovered with a smirk of his own.  Vegeta scowled at his son's threat, which he knew the little troublemaker would follow through with if he didn't get his way.  There was no doubting that Trunks was a conniving little punk; a true Saiyan Prince, a thought that almost had Vegeta smirking despite himself.  Trunks caught the change in his father's demeanor and knew that with a little more prodding his dad would bend to his wishes.  "Besides, with me helping you look we can get done and out of here twice as fast.  So, what do you say?"

            Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the boy.  "Fine," was the clipped reply that the boy received.  "Just don't get in my way son."  Vegeta added as an afterthought and Trunks' face broke out into a grin.  He was going shopping with his father; he figured things should definitely be interesting.  The Saiyan Prince was just starting to walk towards another sales rack when his young heir hatched a new idea.

            "You know what will make our excursion even faster dad?"  Trunks suddenly called out after his retreating father.  Vegeta stopped mid-stride and turned toward his son, interested in what could end this torturous shopping trip.  He raised an eyebrow signaling his curiosity of Trunks' plan.  "We should use baby monitors!"

            "What?"  Vegeta asked incredulously.  He certainly did not see where his son was going with this.

            "It's simple dad.  We can use the baby monitors to communicate to each other at different parts of the store.  That way we can split up and alert the other if we find something worth noting, and we won't end up looking at the same parts of the store."  Trunks explained with enthusiasm.

            "It sounds to me like you just want to play with a toy and I certainly won't partake in such silliness."  Vegeta replied sternly.

            "Baby monitors aren't toys Dad.  Although Mom used to let me and Goten," Trunks began his story before getting cut off.

            "Goten and me," Vegeta stated, correcting the boy's grammar.  Trunks groaned and rolled his eyes.

            "Not you too!  Mom is always doing things like that to me."  The young lavender-haired warrior whined.

            "Your mother is just teaching you how to speak correctly.  A Saiyan Prince is to speak properly and act well-educated at all times."  Vegeta said regally, raising his chin and standing tall and proud: well, at least as tall as Vegeta could be.  Trunks looked up at his father solemnly and shook his head, showing his father he understood his message.

            "Sorry Dad.  Anyway, back to what I was saying," Trunks started again, "Mom used to let Goten and me play with my old baby monitors as walkie-talkies.  They weren't exactly the same, but they worked just as well."  Trunks looked up at his father, awaiting his answer.  Seeing his dad hesitate with the idea, Trunks tried a different approach.  "Here, just to prove to you that this will work out, why don't you keep looking around and I'll go grab some tester models of the baby monitors.  I'll be right back," and before his father could object, Trunks was high-tailing it out of the clothing section.  Vegeta watched his son depart and sighed.  How did he ever get dragged into these things?  He was getting way too soft.  Oh well, Vegeta had learned to chose his battles.  This just seemed like one of those times that it would be easier to give in and endure the ridiculous notions of his offspring than to fight his son tooth and nail.

            Vegeta turned to the rack on his right and started ruffling through the outfits hung up.  His face slowly morphed into one of clear distaste as he started looking at each outfit.  Too puffy, too pink, too cuddly, too ruffled, too gaudy; was there nothing in this store that was just plain and simple, yet elegant enough for a princess?   Turning to the rack on his left, Vegeta began sorting through the outfits there.  Just as he was about to give up on that rack, the second to last outfit caught his eye.  He pulled it out and hung it at the front of the rack.  It was a red sweat suit outfit.  The pants had two white stripes running along the outside of both legs and the top was a hooded sweatshirt jacket with similar white stripes on its sleeves.  Now that outfit didn't seem too bad.  At least it was athletic wear, not that a newborn baby would be doing anything athletic.  Vegeta cocked his head to the side as he gazed over the outfit, determining whether or not he should take it.  Just as Vegeta had decided that he liked the outfit and it would be acceptable for his daughter to wear, a Sales Associate, whose name tag announced that she was Pam, and a very pregnant woman walked over to the sales rack Vegeta was standing in front of and picked up the suit.

            "Here we are!"  The heavy-set, grandmotherly saleswoman exclaimed overly enthusiastic.  "This is the very last one in stock, you are a very lucky woman."  She continued, not even paying attention to Vegeta and the outraged expression that had blossomed across his face.  Handing the outfit to the customer, 'Pam' started ushering the woman back towards the check out.  Faster than the normal eye could see, Vegeta zipped on over in front of the women and grabbed the garment.

            "This is mine."  He said simply before stepping around the women to go back to his original spot.  Both women stared at the spot Vegeta had just vacated, not quite comprehending what had happened.  Where had that man come from?  It seemed like he had appeared out of nowhere.  It was Pam who seemed to recover from the shock first, because she was the first to spin around.

            "Excuse me sir," she began, walking over to Vegeta rather briskly for some her age and size.  She came to stand beside the Saiyan Prince whom, needless to say, was ignoring the woman.  "Excuse me," she began again, this time tapping Vegeta's shoulder.  This finally caught his attention and he spun to face the woman.

            "How dare you touch me, woman."  He hissed, leaning toward the once again shocked saleswoman.  His eyes were narrowed dangerously, and anyone who wasn't blind could see the murderous gleam shining in his ebony eyes.  The woman took a step back, her face paling just a little, before she became angry.

            "I'm sorry sir, but it was the only way I could get your attention.  You have taken something that belongs to my customer, and I suggest you hand it over before I call security."  She finished hotly, trying very hard to not let this man in front of her intimidate her.

            "I believe you are mistaken, woman.  Did you not see me at that sales rack when you so rudely rushed in?  Did you not see me looking at that garment that was miraculously hanging at the front of the rack?  I was going to buy that outfit; however, you decided to come in and take that which was not yours."  Vegeta stated deathly calm, his arms crossed over his chest in trademark fashion.  "Therefore, this outfit is mine.  You will just have to find something else."  He then turned away from the woman and began walking towards the electronics section to retrieve his son.  He didn't want to have to deal with such nonsense.  He didn't get far though.

            "Sir, the item was not in your possession.  Hence, I was justified in taking the outfit for my customer.  I'll ask you again to return the item."  Pam persisted.  Vegeta spun back around, a malicious smirk gracing his features.

            "And what will you do if I don't give it back?"  He hissed out challengingly, his eyes still holding that barely concealed gleam of hatred.  Pam took a step back once again.  This man was downright frightening.  It truly looked like he would kill her if she took the outfit from him.  The pregnant woman, sensing the same thing finally spoke up.

            "Um, Miss Pam," she began hesitantly, not wanting to have the man's anger directed at her, "I can really just order the outfit from the catalogue.  It isn't that big of a deal."  Pam turned around and looked at the young, soon-to-be mother and sighed.  She didn't want to back down from this gentleman, but right now her survival instinct was telling her it was time to leave the general vicinity.  Before, she could announce her intention to leave; Vegeta was back in her face.

            "I suggest you take her advice, _Pam_," he began, practically spitting out her name, "you don't want to have any trouble now, do you?"  He then broke out into that wicked smirk again and allowed a minuscule ki-blast to hit the ground at her feet, releasing a small puff of smoke and creating a hole the size of a quarter.  He then allowed a larger ball of ki to accumulate into his hand.  Pam and the pregnant woman backed up in fear, their trembling apparent.

            "No sir, we don't want any trouble."  Pam stuttered before turning to her client and escorting her away.  Vegeta watched the now frightened women leave his presence and he lightly smirked, amusement clearly seen in his eyes.

            "Have a nice day ladies," he said sarcastically as he held up his first find of the day.

            "Who are you talking to dad?"  Trunks asked a little worriedly.  No one seemed to be around and yet his father was talking to himself.

            "No one son; absolutely no one."  Vegeta said with another little smirk. Perhaps this wasn't going to be so bad after all.  He already had one outfit done, and he got to scare some ridiculous humans.  It didn't get much better than that.  Vegeta found himself chuckling as he thought of the look of terror that had flashed across Pam's face when he had flicked that ki-blast at her feet; simply priceless.  He may not have ever hurt the two women, he wasn't the Saiyan he used to be, but that didn't mean he didn't like terrorizing the innocent public from time to time.  What could he say?  It was a hobby of his.

            Meanwhile, Trunks just shook his head.  He doubted he would ever figure his father out.  Not that it mattered at this moment.  Whatever had transpired while he was gone had put his father in a semi-good mood, and that was all that mattered to Trunks.  Not waiting for any other explanation from his father, Trunks thrust a baby monitor and a receiver at his dad.  "Here.  Talk into this monitor whenever you want to talk to me.  I'll be able to hear it with this receiver," he explained, holding up a slightly larger device than the baby monitor itself.  "Likewise, I'll talk to you through my monitor to your receiver."

            "Why don't we use the same monitor?"  Vegeta asked, looking at the devices in his hands with trepidation.  This seemed like more bother than what it was worth.

            "Because it doesn't work that way.  It isn't like a walkie-talkie.  The monitors are only one way.  You just use them to hear the baby from another room; you can't talk back to the baby."  Trunks explained, his voice betraying his exasperation.  Vegeta rolled his eyes.

            "Fine, whatever.  Let's get this over with."  Vegeta said, walking off and leaving his son behind.

            "That's a big 10-4.  Over and out."  Trunks said into his baby monitor, making it blast out of Vegeta's receiver, which had the volume turned up all the way.  Vegeta visibly jumped and moved to turn down the volume, then shot a glare over at his son who was laughing at his little prank.  Vegeta then turned his eyes skywards as the noise from the monitor had disturbed a few of the babies that were in the store.  He wasn't going to last long if he had to listen to a chorus of crying infants.  Sighing to himself, Vegeta tried to block out the noise and continued his search.

            Bulma read the features of the product she was looking at when she heard a shopping cart approaching her.  Glancing over, she saw her husband walking up the aisle.  The blue-haired genius smiled at the scene before her.  Vegeta, looking none to happy, was pushing a shopping cart full of clothes and toys.  She was surprised to see that he had taken the challenge seriously and had actually gone shopping.  Even more surprising was that she had not heard a peep from either him or Trunks for the hour and a half that they were gone.  Speaking of which, where was her son?  Almost as if on cue, a voice spoke from Vegeta's cart.

            "'Grumpy Prince', this is 'Purple Terror' do you copy?"  Trunks disembodied voice emanated from the cart, his voice taking on a very cheesy quality.  Bulma quirked an eyebrow at her husband; she couldn't wait to hear what this was all about.  Vegeta glared at his wife's obvious amusement and picked up his baby monitor.

            "What boy?  I thought I told you to find your mother."  Vegeta snapped; his patience with this excursion was clearly over.

            "Dad!"  Trunks whined in response.  "You aren't doing it right.  You are supposed to say 'I copy Purple Terror'."

            "I most certainly will not.  I have had just about enough of this foolishness.  We are done shopping, _now_.  Get your butt over here, your mother and I are over by the electronics."  Vegeta commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

            "Yes dad," came Trunks' disheartened reply.  Although he wouldn't have expected it when they first set out this morning, Trunks was having a pretty good time with this entire baby shopping experience.  He just pretended that he was on a secret mission, and playing on the baby monitors was a blast.  He couldn't remember the last time he had gotten to annoy his father this much.  It was a pity it was coming to an end.  

            After he was sure Trunks was done speaking, Vegeta placed the two devices onto the shelf he assumed they had come from and came to stand directly beside his mate.  Glancing over her shoulder, he tried to see what exactly she was looking at and figure out what the thing was supposed to do for the baby.

            "What is this thing?"  Vegeta asked, coming over to inspect the gadget.  He picked up the two funnel type pieces.  Each funnel had a thin hose attaching it to an electric operated device.  The Saiyan Prince, not realizing what he was doing, held up one of the funnel-like pieces to his mouth and spoke directly into it.  "This isn't another type of baby monitor is it?"  Bulma, for her part, was doing a pretty good job of not laughing and her husband's total obliviousness.  

            "No Vegeta, that isn't what it is."  She then lowered her voice so that she wasn't announcing to the whole store that her husband had such an apparatus hovering around his face.  "It's a breast pump."  Vegeta immediately dropped the object and backed away from the machine.

            "Are you telling me what I think you are telling me?"  Vegeta asked; his cheeks slightly reddened in embarrassment due to his lack of knowledge.  He had just looked like a complete idiot.  Luckily, only his mate was around at the time to witness his blunder; then, seeing the amusement dancing in his wife's eyes, Vegeta thought that maybe he wasn't so lucky.  She would never let this drop and he could tell that she was about ready to bust out laughing at any second.  "Go ahead, woman, laugh.  You are going to pop a blood vessel if you hold it in any longer."  Vegeta snapped.  

            "Oh Vegeta," Bulma said between chuckles, doing a really good job at controlling her laughter.  "You need to learn how to laugh at yourself from time to time.  Even you would have to admit that it was funny.  If you had seen someone do what you just did, you would find it amusing."

            "It wasn't funny, Bulma."  Vegeta said, his voice almost taking on a pouting tone and Bulma just smiled.  Her prince charming was such a baby when it to someone making fun of him.

            "It was funny Vegeta."  Bulma shot back and before Vegeta could attempt to deny the claim again, the blue-haired genius came to stand right in front of her husband.  "But you know what?  I'm not going to argue over something so stupid, so let's consider it dropped.  Sound good?"  She asked, inching ever closer to her mate, looking up into his eyes lovingly.  Vegeta looked down at his mate and nodded his assent.  Bulma then took advantage of the moment, and quickly closed the gap between them and gave Vegeta a light kiss on the lips, catching her mate off guard.  She smiled as she caught the conflicting emotions flutter across his features.  He couldn't decide if he was angry she had done such a thing in public, horrified that she had engaged in such a public act of affection, or was aroused by her nearness.

            "Eww, gross.  You shouldn't do that in public!"  Trunks exclaimed as he turned down their aisle; his face scrunched up in disgust as he saw the quick peck his mother had given his father.  Granted, it wasn't the worst thing Trunks had ever seen his parents doing, but that didn't cover up the fact that he had just witnessed his parents kiss.  Both Bulma and Vegeta looked over at their son; Bulma with a smile, and Vegeta with a scowl.

            "Hello sweetie, you ready to get on out of here and go grab some lunch?"  Bulma said in an attempt to defuse any situation that may occur due to Trunks' poor sense of timing.  Vegeta hated being caught doing something that could be construed at weakness.  Trunks nodded vigorously to his mother's question.  He was starving, and although baby shopping hadn't been as bad as he thought it was going to be; Trunks was ready to get out of the store and never come back.  Trunks then came up and took his mother's cart and started to push it towards the checkout area for her.  Vegeta, still scowling over at his heir, followed behind the two of them.

            Once they approached the counter, Bulma started piling the things from her cart onto the table to be purchased.  The saleswoman at the desk looked at all the merchandise in awe.  "Well, you are making certain that your little girl is going to have enough to wear."  She said with a small laugh as she began ringing things in.  Bulma glanced behind her where Vegeta was just pulling in behind her.

            "Oh that is only the half of it," Bulma began, laughing at the shocked expression that came over the woman's face.  "Yep, my husband and son have a whole cart over there to themselves."  At the mention of another cart, the woman looked behind Bulma and gasped, her face suddenly going pale.

            "Hello _Pam_," Vegeta said mock-sincerely, an evil looking smirk gracing his lips.  And with his words, the grandmotherly saleswoman fainted.  Immediately, Bulma turned on her husband and rolled her eyes.  She just knew this shopping trip had gone too well.  She should have guessed there was some reason why Vegeta had been so "quiet".

            "Vegeta, I don't know what you did to this poor woman, and right now I could care less, but perhaps you should go wait in the car.  I need her to wake up and finish checking us out."  Bulma suggested, as she moved around the counter to try and help the terrorized Pam.  Vegeta smirked.  It was about time.

            "You know what Bulma?  That is the best idea you have had all day."  With that being said, Vegeta gratefully left the accused baby boutique.

There you all go!  I hope you all enjoyed this chapter; it is definitely my longest one yet.  Let me know what you thought about this installment of the story.  I thrive off of everyone's reviews!  I also want to pose a question to all of you out there reading this story.  What would you like to see happen in this story?  I have a pretty good idea where I am going with this, but I was just wondering if I am taking too long to get to Bra's birth.  I plan on skipping ahead a couple of months in the next chapter, but do any of you think I should get through the pregnancy any faster than what I am?  It's just something I am pondering.  Let me know what you think.

Thanks again for reading everyone!

Until Next Time…    


	12. Baths and Home Movies

You're What Chapter 12: Baths and Home Movies

            Bulma placed a final teddy bear upon the dresser in the baby's nursery and then backed up to survey the now fully decorated room.  The walls were painted a very pale, pastel pink with a border running along the top of the wall.  The white border showed a cute colleague of baby toys ranging from rocking horses, teddy bears, ABC blocks and rattles: each toy being colored in alternating light blue, pink, and yellow.  A plush off-white carpet blanketed the floor.  White shelves, which hung above the changing table, were staggered on the wall to her left; each one filled with stuffed animals.  A beautiful oak crib, that was used when Bulma was a baby and again with Trunks, was against the wall to her right, a mobile that played "Hush Little Baby" hanging over the one end.  Nodding in approval of the room, Bulma turned to walk out of the nursery when she noticed one little flaw in the appearance of the room.  In the space between the door to the room and the closet door was an oak chest that matched the crib.  It was filled with supplies for the baby, such as diapers, blankets, wipes, baby powder, etc.  She had left the chest open, something her perfectionist nature could not allow.  Gently lowering the top, Bulma traced her fingers over the carvings found there.  In the center was a heart with one word scrolling across the center: Bulma.  On the lower left corner, slightly smaller since Bulma's heart took up so much room, was a similar carving with Trunks' name in the middle.  Bulma placed a hand over her now rather round belly and smiled.  Soon another heart containing the yet-to-be determined name of the baby she carried would be carved on the lower right corner.  One day she hoped her children would carve the names of their babies into the chest.  

            Now fully satisfied with the room, Bulma left and started walking down the hall to her own bedroom.  As she entered the expansive room Bulma winced slightly in pain.  One thing was for sure: this kid was definitely Vegeta's.  Six months into the pregnancy and this little princess seemed to be 'training' more than even her father.  Trunks had not kicked nor moved nearly as much.  Walking over to the king-sized bed and laying down on her back with her legs hanging over the edge, Bulma started rubbing her stomach in an attempt to calm the rambunctious baby.

            "Baby," Bulma said pleadingly, " you have to give your mother a rest.  You'll be the death of me, I swear!"  She finished with a small smile.  Continuing to rub her stomach, Bulma looked up at the ceiling and contemplated the name of her unborn child.  Somehow she had a feeling "Baby" wouldn't work forever, this wasn't _Dirty Dancing _after all.  As of now, Bulma couldn't think of a name that she liked and Vegeta remained bent on naming the child Vega.  Her pesky mate was still a little sore about the fact that Trunks was not named after him and was convinced that this girl should have a variation of his name.  Bulma was bound and determined not to let that happen.  She just didn't like the name.  No, she wanted her daughter to have a name that was dainty and feminine, a contrast to how strong she would be in both mind and body.  Sensing that the baby was finally resting, Bulma slowly sat up, pushed off the bed and headed for the bathroom.  A bath sounded very nice right about now.  She had been working on the nursery all afternoon and she deserved a break.

            Starting the water, the blue-haired scientist disrobed quickly and walked over to one of the cabinets to decide what bubble bath she wanted to use.  She decided on Lavender and walked back over to the elaborate black, marble tub that could effectively seat four people and poured in the soapy gel.  Easing into the tub, Bulma waited for the water to fill to the top before turning off the water and lying back to relax.  Reaching behind her, Bulma found the portable CD player that she always kept by the tub so that she could listen to music while she bathed.  She placed on the headphones, closed her eyes, and started to sing to the music.  That was how her husband found her.

            Vegeta looked at his mate and shook his head.  He would never understand how the woman could not know that she was absolutely awful when it came to singing.  She was so off-key it wasn't even funny.  Trying his best to ignore the noise she considered singing, he went to sit on the edge of the tub and smirked at his mate.  She was absolutely beautiful, and motherhood was only enhancing that beauty.  She was practically glowing even just lying there in the bathtub.  His eyes swept over every inch of her face before sweeping downwards.  He almost let out a small growl of annoyance.  He hated this bubbly substance she insisted on putting in her water; it covered up her body from his view.  Still oblivious to his presence, Vegeta slowly slipped a hand into the warm water and gently traced his hand over her swollen belly.  Bulma didn't open her eyes but instead slowly smiled at the feel of her husband's hand, alerting Vegeta to the fact that Bulma had known he had been there the entire time.

            "Hello my sexy, Saiyan Prince," Bulma all but purred while pulling off her headphones.  Vegeta smirked wickedly at her tone of voice and suppressed the shiver of desire he felt shoot through his body at her cheeky greeting.  Bulma finally opened her eyes as she felt Vegeta's hand slowly moving higher up her body.  Bulma grabbed his hand and stopped it short of its goal.  "I wasn't expecting to see you this early in the afternoon.  What's up?  Besides what's in your pants," Bulma added as an afterthought when her eyes had snapped down to her husband's lower body.  Vegeta couldn't help but smirk in reply.  It wasn't often that his wife was in such a playful mood.

            "Nothing is 'up', as you so eloquently put it.  The gravity in the GR mysteriously turned off.  You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"  Vegeta asked, a lot more calmly than anyone would expect considering his training was being compromised.

            "I have no idea what you are talking about," she exclaimed, feigning innocence.  This finally brought a light scowl to Vegeta's face; he could only take so much kidding around.  Bulma noticed the slight scowl and rolled her eyes over-dramatically.  "Fine grumpy, I'll confess.  I programmed the GR to deactivate and remain that way until after tomorrow's festivities."  Before her husband could complain, Bulma continued talking.  "And no, Vegeta, I will not turn it back on.  There are things that need to get done before the shower tomorrow and I want you to be involved.  Once all the guests are gone tomorrow the Gravity Room will be turned back on and you can train 'til your heart's content."

            Vegeta's scowl deepened and out of sheer habit he went to cross his arms, not registering that his one hand and upper arm was still emerged within the water.  Therefore, he thoroughly soaked his shirt and splashed water everywhere when he crossed his arms over his chest.  "What do you expect me to do for the next 36 hours?"  Vegeta asked irked by both the fact that he wasn't going to be training and that he was now damp.

            "Oh Dende forbid that you may actually have to spend quality time with your family."  Bulma answered sarcastically.  Vegeta snorted and glared at his wife, who glared right back.  They stayed that way for a few moments before Bulma finally broke out into a grin.  "We are behaving like a couple of children."  She said with a laugh, in reference to their staring match.  "Why don't we go out to dinner tonight and then have a nice relaxing night in tonight?  Tomorrow will be a busy, but fun, day.  I promise."  Vegeta cocked his head and looked at his wife skeptically.  Bulma saw his leery gaze and couldn't help but chuckle again.  "I promise you, the world won't end if you take a day off of training."

            "I don't know Bulma.  They way things happen on this planet, that may not be a safe bet."  Vegeta said roughly, not entirely convinced by her statements.  "I still don't understand why I can't train."  

            "Vegeta, you know I have people coming in to set up for tomorrow's baby shower later on this evening.  I don't need any unexpected explosions, nor do I need the hired help turning down the wrong hall and seeing my husband floating around and letting off energy blasts.  I told you all this before.  Please try and understand."  Bulma explained patiently.  She didn't want this to turn into the huge argument it had always become any other time they discussed this arrangement.  Vegeta gave a growl of annoyance but then slowly nodded.

            "Alright.  I suppose it won't kill me to take one night off from training.  But be fore warned, my conniving little minx," Vegeta said in an eerily calm whisper, his face inching ever closer to hers, " I will make up every minute of training I lose in the next day and a half.  So don't be waiting up for me tomorrow night.  I won't be coming to bed."

            "Am I supposed to be surprised by that?"  Bulma said with a hint of a smile, seeing Vegeta still closing in.

            "Maybe not," Vegeta replied in a low, sexy whisper.  He then captured her lips in a searing kiss, letting any lingering anger dissipate.  Bulma wrapped her arms around her mate's shoulders, further drenching his shirt.  Vegeta was about to pull away and complain when Bulma deepened the kiss and started trailing her hands down his back.  The prince couldn't help but let out a low moan.  Inwardly, Bulma laughed.  She had her husband just where she wanted him.  Caught off guard by the feelings his wife was evoking, Vegeta wasn't able to stop his wife from pulling into the tub with her.  As soon as his body hit the water next to his wife, Vegeta levitated out of the water, sputtering.  He glared down at his mate as he hovered above her, raining water down upon her.  Bulma, for her part, did a good job of holding in the laughter that was threatening to burst forth; however, she could not hide the amusement dancing within her sapphire eyes.  

            "Why your highness, you are completely soaked."  Bulma stated the obvious, her voice overly sweet.  Vegeta sneered at his wife, his anger igniting once again.  Before he could act on his sudden outburst, Bulma spoke again.  "Those clothes look pretty uncomfortable, being wet and all.  Perhaps you should take them off."  Bulma suggested with a playful wink.  At this suggestion, Vegeta's anger, while not completely fading, dimmed considerably and a smirk once again crossed his features.  His mate was a cunning woman when it came to getting what she wanted.

            "Well, I was going to take a shower, but something is telling me that bath might be more fun."  Vegeta said in slight amusement before surprising Bulma and dropping back into the water, sending a wave of water over the edge and onto the floor.

            "Hey!  You're going to have to clean that up," Bulma protested as she saw the flooding of the immediate bathroom.

            "Make me," Vegeta said with an evil chuckle, then without preamble he kissed his wife again and proceeded to take his "bath".

            Vegeta sat in the darkened living room sandwiched between his wife and his son on the long leather coach facing the entertainment center; the television casting the only light in the room.  The other occupants of the room had fallen asleep a while ago, Bulma with her head on his shoulder and Trunks with his head in his lap.  Call it a moment of weakness, but Vegeta didn't have the heart to wake them up just then.  The three of them had gone out to dinner, which was always a big production when feeding two males of Saiyan blood; then they had gone to the park to let Trunks play and go through the small zoo found there; and finally, after getting some ice cream for dessert, the family had retired to the living room and had proceeded to watch DVDs of Trunks when he was a baby.  Watching the films had totally mortified Trunks and had thus, made the experience thoroughly enjoyable for Vegeta.  If it wasn't for the fact that he could embarrass his heir by watching the home movies, then there was no way he would have ever been talked into watching the stupid things in the first place.  He remembered when Bulma would walk around with that blasted video camera taping all of Trunks' movements for "posterity".  If his memory served him correctly, she had gone through about 5 of those devices; one for each time she had tried to record him and he had blasted the idiotic mechanism to the next dimension.

            Trunks hadn't lasted too long into the viewing of his yesteryears, it was late when they had started watching the films and the boy, despite his best efforts to stay up late, hadn't last more than a half an hour after his normal bedtime.  Bulma was not too far behind her son.  As her pregnancy progressed, Bulma was becoming more and more tired from carrying the brat within her.  Vegeta had watched the number of hours she slept each night grow exponentially with each month that passed.  Therefore, Vegeta had been here by himself for the past half an hour watching Trunks' third birthday party, which luckily seemed to be ending.  Deciding that he'd had enough with this trip down memory lane, the Saiyan monarch glanced around the room in search of the remote.  Sure enough, it was on the end table on the other side of Trunks.  There was no way he was going to be able to reach it without moving the boy and in all likelihood, waking him.  Vegeta sighed and weighed his options.  Did he wake up his family and end this one rare moment or did he just sit through the rest of this movie?

            Vegeta didn't have to wait long before an answer was handed to him.  The movie ended.  However, another DVD cued up and began playing.  Vegeta was about to give up and move his wife and son when he caught a glimpse of a very pregnant Bulma on the screen.  She had her hand over her protruding belly and was waving at the camera.  Although she was attempting to smile, all that came across was a grimace.  Vegeta stared intently at the television.  He had never before seen this film.  In fact, he didn't know that Bulma had any movies of her actual pregnancy with Trunks.  He wondered silently why she had never shown them to him before.

            "If I didn't know any better, I'd say this kid just turned Super Saiyan on me," Bulma said with a slight laugh, whatever pain the baby was causing her seemingly had passed.  Vegeta smirked.  That's his boy.

            "Bulma, honey, why don't you go rest before the guests arrive?"  A voice off camera called; clearly it was her mother.  Vegeta then noticed that everything was decorated much like it was now.  This must be Bulma's baby shower for Trunks.  But that couldn't be right.  None of her friends knew about Trunks until they all met up for the fight against the androids.  Vegeta pondered over that thought for but a second before his keen mind came up with an explanation.  This must have been a party for all of her family and co-workers.  They would have certainly seen her walking around expecting a baby.  It was the same as with tomorrow's party.  Although their _friends_, and he used the term loosely, were going to be there, so were a bunch of Capsule Corporation people.

            "No, mom.  I'll just have a seat right here and wait.  Thanks for the concern though!"  Bulma replied as she took a seat.  She then looked again at the camera, her head tilting in confusion.  "Yamcha, why do you keep pointing that thing at me?  You can't possibly get me in the shot.  I'm huge!"  She said with a laugh as she placed both her hands over her belly for emphasis.  At the mention of her pathetic ex-boyfriend, Vegeta sneered.  Perhaps this was why Bulma never showed him these films.  _He_ was in them.

            "You know babe, my offer still stands."  Yamcha's voice could be heard from behind the camera, and Vegeta couldn't help but let out a small growl at the nickname.  Even after all these years, Vegeta detested that man.  He figured he always would.  He continued to watch as Bulma's face fell, and Vegeta had to wonder what exactly Yamcha's offer had been to make his mate look like she was about to cry.

            "Yamcha, I know you are just trying to be help," the mother-to be began, her voice wavering, "and your offer is very noble, but I just can't accept it.  I can't tell people that you are the baby's father.  It's just not right."  She finished sounding very forlorn.  Vegeta felt his anger rise and had to struggle to keep his ki in check.  He didn't care that this occurred years ago; he had just heard another man attempt to claim something of his!  Taking deep breaths, something Bulma always claims to help her calm down, Vegeta continued watching the movie.

            "What's not right Bulma," Yamcha said with conviction, both seeming to forget that what they were saying was being caught on tape," is the fact that you were abandoned to raise this child by yourself.  What's not right is that you have had to struggle through this pregnancy mostly alone.  What's not right is that you love a man that will _never_ love you back!"  Vegeta felt his anger rise to new levels.  How dare that insignificant human say such things?  However, even as he felt the anger toward Yamcha, Vegeta knew that most of the anger he was now feeling was directed at himself.  Vegeta looked down at the woman sleeping next to him, curled up on the couch.  How could he have ever left her?  His eyes swung back to the big screen TV when Bulma finally spoke.

            "I know you are right Yamcha.  Nothing that has happened in these past seven months has been expected.  But, aside from the whole being cast aside by a temperamental alien, I wouldn't change it for the world.  Just like, I could never ask you to step into the role of father for a child that is not even yours.  There is no way that you should have to take on that responsibility.  Just be my friend, help me when I need it.  That's all I ask."  Bulma finished quietly.

            "I will always be there for you babe; all you have to do is ask."  Yamcha replied sincerely.  This finally got a smile out of Bulma.

            "I just did silly," she pointed out with a giggle.

            "Well, here I am, just as I said I'd be!"  Yamcha said with a laugh of his own.

            "You are such a nerd," his mate said with a shake of her head.  "Now come over here and help a fat lady out of her chair!"  Bulma commanded and in the next moment the movie flickered off.  Almost a second later the picture came back on and it appeared that the baby shower was in full swing; yet, Vegeta paid no attention to the screen for he had turned his thoughts inward.  He had said it before, and he was sure he'd say it again, but he had really messed up in the beginning with Trunks.  Placing his hand over his mate's stomach and feeling the strong ki that emanated from within, Vegeta gave a silent thanks to whoever was listening for giving him this second chance with his family.  Although he wasn't looking forward to the party tomorrow, since he had always hated large get togethers; his mate was going to have a father at this baby shower, of that he was sure.

            Nudging his son, Vegeta decided that it was time for him to do something else rather than sit in the dark drudging up the mistakes he had made in the past.  Granted, seeing that short video clip between Yamcha and Bulma had done some good; it reminded him of how lucky he was to be around during this pregnancy and also proved that history was not repeating itself.  Trunks groaned in protest, but quickly came to his senses when his father poked him again.

            "Boy," Vegeta said in a low voice, attempting not to wake Bulma, "head on upstairs and go to bed."  Trunks nodded haphazardly, his mind still half asleep.  As he rose, Vegeta spoke to his son again.  "Oh, and give me the remote too.  I want to turn this blasted thing off."  Without receiving any sort of response from Trunks, the boy stumbled over to the end table, grabbed the remote and gave it to his father.  He then staggered on off and up the stairs, looking for all the world like he was drunk.  Vegeta clicked off the TV and started to disengage himself from his mate only to have her stir.

            "Sorry Vegeta," came Bulma's sleepy voice from beside him, "I didn't mean to fall asleep."  She slowly opened her eyes and looked like she was going to get up.  Before she could follow in her son's footsteps, Vegeta stood up and gently lifted his wife into his arms.  Immediately she snuggled back into him and whispered a thank you for carrying her on up to bed.  As they climbed the stairs, a thought came to Vegeta.

            "Bulma?"  He asked softly.  She gave a soft muffled reply, signaling that she was awake but just barely.  "That pathetic ex of yours, he took good care of you while you were carrying Trunks, didn't he?"  Bulma, still in that hazy world between being asleep and being awake, didn't contemplate the question that was just asked of her; she just answered it truthfully.

            "He took very good care of me," she mumbled into his chest.  Vegeta pressed the button to open their bedroom door and walked in with his precious cargo.  Gently, he placed her on the bed, pulled back the covers, and proceeded to tuck her in.  Looking at her as she lay sleeping once again, Vegeta contemplated the answer she had just given him.  Turning away he went back to the door and shut it; once it had slid back into place he locked the door and proceeded to join his mate in the bed.  Scooting over to lay next to Bulma, Vegeta slung an arm over her stomach and settled in to go to sleep.  He was going to need all of his strength in order to deal with all of the guests coming over tomorrow; plus he needed to keep his wits about him for there was a certain human that he needed to have a chat with.  Checking on the baby's ki one last time, a habit he had picked up over the course of the pregnancy, Vegeta easily fell into slumber.

Ok, so this was another filler chapter to kind of bring things up to speed.  I don't truly know where this chapter came from, I'm still trying to decide if it has a point…but I figured I spent this much time writing it, I was surely going to post it!  I hope you all enjoy it!  It's pointless but fun.  Let me know what you think.  Once again, thank you to everyone who has reviewed!  I have loved all of the reviews I have received so far and I am trying desperately to keep you all entertained! J  Anyway, the next chapter should be fun; it's the start of the baby shower.  I've already decided that the baby shower will probably take more than one chapter to complete…there is just so many things that could happen, especially since this will be the first time that we get to see the whole DBZ gang together in this fic!  The ideas are just running rampant!

On a second note, here is a shameless plug for my new story _Only the Lonely_.  It is a B/V get together set in the first person.  I'm hoping to give a somewhat original portrayal of how our famous couple got together from their points of view.  If you have the time, please read it and let me know what you think!  I would greatly appreciate it.

Until Next Time…  


	13. Let the Party Begin

You're What?! Chapter 13: Let the Party Begin

            Trunks stood in front of one of the many tables containing hors d'oeuvres with a plate that was quickly filling up with the scrumptious looking snacks.  Taking a few more cheese cubes, Trunks turned around and started to navigate through the throng of people mingling at the party being held within the large menagerie where his mother normally held her parties.  The lavender-haired boy hated these large functions.  He didn't know most of the people here, although they apparently knew him.  The poor boy had lost count of how many of his mother's co-workers had approached him and gushed over how much he had grown.  Trunks absolutely hated the attention.  For one thing, it made him feel stupid because he had no idea what to say to those people.  Luckily for him, Trunks had figured out a way to lose some of the attention; he had escaped to his bedroom and had gotten one of his Capsule Corporation baseball caps.  With his hair completely concealed behind the hat, it was not quite as easy to recognize him.

            Trunks sighed with relief as he caught sight of his friend Goten munching away at food at the table right in front of him.  He'd made it without a single person pinching his cheeks, patting him on the back, or ruffling his hair, not that they could with the hat on his head anyway.  Taking a seat next to his best friend in the whole wide world, Trunks likewise began to stuff his face.

            "You know what Goten?"  The lavender-haired prince asked in between bites.  Goten looked over at his friend in shock.  He had been so engrossed with his food he hadn't even noticed Trunks come back.

            "What?"  The Goku look-alike responded with his mouth full, spraying food everywhere.  Trunks immediately held up a napkin to protect himself from the projectile bits of food.

            "Gross Goten!  When will you ever learn some manners?  It is not polite to talk with your mouth full.  I don't want to be wearing the food that you are eating."  Trunks scolded harshly, slamming his napkin back down upon the table.  Goten immediately cringed and looked up at his friend with wide sorrowful eyes, the hurt written clearly across his face.  The older boy turned his eyes skyward and sighed.  "I'm not trying to be mean Goten; just watch what you are doing next time ok?"  At Goten's enthusiastic nod, Trunks continued: "As I was going to say, this party is borrrrrrring!"

            "Yeah, but at least the food is good!"  Goten responded, always looking on the bright side.

            "It should be.  It cost more than your house!"  Trunks teased with a semi-evil smirk.  Goten promptly punched his friend in the arm.  He hated it when Trunks would gloat about how much money he had.  It wasn't like it was his money anyways; it was Bulma's.  Trunks glared at his friend as he gingerly rubbed his upper arm where Goten had punched him.  "Jeez Goten it was just a joke, no need to be violent.  All I wanted to say was that I think we need to liven this party up.  Everyone is just standing around and talking.  How dull is that?"

            "What do you have in mind Trunks?"  Goten asked eagerly, not stopping to think that what ever his friend had planed would probably end up getting them both into trouble.

            "Just follow me Goten," Trunks answered with a smirk worthy of his father.  Pushing away from the table, the lavender-haired terror motioned for his accomplice to follow him over to the indoor stream that emptied into a little pond.

            Bulma patted her husband's arm as she guided him through the crowd of people who were in attendance for her baby shower.  Actually, the event was more of a glorified party than anything else.  It was definitely not your normal baby shower with loud, giddy women gushing over presents and playing silly games.  No, Bulma's "shower", if you wanted to call it that, was a get-together for everyone to relax, mingle, and get a change to give their best wishes to the mother-to-be.  Bulma was having a blast.  It wasn't often the employees of Capsule Corp could all get together and have fun.  Plus, all of her other friends were in attendance and would be staying for a more intimate party when all of her co-workers left later on this afternoon.  Vegeta, on the other hand, looked like he was ready to blast something, if the occasional twitching of his eye was any indication.  Vegeta looked down at his mate and growled.

            "You are going to owe me so much for doing this today."  He clipped out, his voice low enough where only Bulma could hear him.  Instead of answering him, Bulma patted his arm again and flashed him a brilliant smile.  She then turned as someone called her name.  Vegeta rolled his eyes, not another nameless face.  He'd been introduced to so many people today, and he could care less about any of them.  He didn't remember a single name that she had told him.  Upon hearing his wife say his name, Vegeta turned his attention to the woman standing in front of his mate and smirked.  He knew this woman.  She was Bulma's secretary and had been so for as long as he'd been on Earth.

            "Hello Vegeta.  I see you are as talkative as ever."  The dark-haired woman laughed.  "Congratulations, by the way."  Helena said while extending her arm to shake his hand.  Without hesitation, Vegeta took her hand.  He had always liked this petite woman.  She had a spirit similar to Bulma's and had never put up with his attitude.  Needless to say, over the years, Vegeta had seen the woman a lot when needing to see Bulma at work.  Speaking of his wife, Vegeta felt the woman disengage from his arm to turn to yet another guest.  "So how are you holding up Vegeta?  This party is about as boring as they come, no offense."

            "None taken.  I hold the same opinion of this silly event.  Everyone that is present is either here for the free food or out of obligation.  No one actually wants to be here."  Vegeta stated bluntly.  Helena laughed out loud at that declaration and clapped Vegeta on the back.

            "That's what I love about you Vegeta, you always speak the truth no matter how harsh it may seem."  She then started to walk away as she noticed Bulma trying to gain her husband's attention.  "Good luck surviving the afternoon."  At that comment, Vegeta scowled and turned to look at his wife, seeing her already introducing him to another guest.  Vegeta held up a hand in greeting, but made no move to come to Bulma's side.  He'd had just about enough of this nonsense.  Perhaps he could leave for a little while and come back later once a majority of the people had left.  However, any thoughts of escape where dashed when his mate started walking back over to him, her eyes flashing dangerously.

            "Vegeta!  That was incredibly rude.  I was just trying to introduce my husband, the father of my baby, to Professor Stellar, and you don't even have the courtesy to come over and shake his hand?"  Bulma fumed, not caring that overall Vegeta had been behaving himself very well today.

            "So I didn't shake his hand.  Shoot me.  It is totally pointless for me to meet all of these people, most of which I will probably never meet again!  This is a total waste of my time and I think so far I have been extremely tolerant."  Vegeta likewise vented, using all of his willpower not to raise his voice and draw attention to their discussion.

            "Fine Vegeta, if you don't want to be a part of this than go.  I'll go talk to all of the well-wishers and if they ask where the proud father is I'll tell them that you abandoned us because you thought this was all just a total waste your time!"  The blue-haired scientist shot back, her voice sounding slightly hysterical as though she could break out into tears at any moment.

            "Oh no you don't!"  Vegeta said with conviction.  "It won't work Bulma.  You won't make me feel guilty.  I don't care what you tell those pathetic human underlings of yours.  Their opinion does not matter to me.  So go ahead, tell them.  I dare you."

            Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.  "I guess you can go then, since you don't care.  It isn't like you wanted to be here for me or your child anyway.  So, go on, leave.  See what I care."

            "Good, I will."

            "Fine."  Bulma hissed out.

            "Fine."  Vegeta likewise clipped out, turning on his heel.

            "Fine."  Bulma called out after him, her voice rising in her anger as she forgot about not attracting a crowd.

            "Fine."  Vegeta echoed as he turned back to face his wife, his voice getting equally louder.

            "FINE!"

            "FINE!"

            The two shouts bounced off the high domed ceiling and reverberated through out the indoor park.  All commotion stopped as everyone came to look at the couple.  Bulma slowly tore her eyes away from Vegeta and looked around at the prying eyes surrounding her.  Turning to face them, Bulma smiled embarrassedly and clasped both hands in front of her, unsure of what she should say to elevate the awkward situation.  Before her brilliant mind could come up with anything, Vegeta solved the problem for her.

            "What are you all looking at?"  He asked pointedly, putting the embarrassment on the spectators for staring so rudely at the couple.  Now most of the people started to look away, not wanting to be caught spying on the couple.  "Everything is 'fine', go back to doing your party" he paused, trying to find the word he was looking for and coming up blank, "stuff."  He ended with a wave of his hand.  Seeing that everyone had taken his advice and were starting back up with their own conversations, Vegeta gave one last glare at his wife before striding off.

            Bulma watched her husband walk off and snapped out of her embarrassed shock.  He was actually leaving!  That bastard.  She would be damned if he got off that easily.  With a steely determination, Bulma headed in the direction her mate had just gone.  She didn't have to go far before finding him.  Over at one of the tables set up on the grassy plain sat her husband.  He was leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed firmly across his chest; a frown complemented the angered stance.  At the table sat Goku and Gohan, both listening intently to Vegeta, who no doubt was probably bad mouthing her.  At seeing her pissed husband sitting with his once greatest rival and conversing, Bulma's anger dissipated.  So her pesky prince wasn't leaving the party like she thought he was.  He just didn't want to be socializing any more, not that Bulma should have been surprised.  Vegeta was not a social person and it was in that moment that Bulma realized just how compliant he had been up until a few minutes ago.  In all actuality, Bulma was surprised that he had lasted as long as he had.  Perhaps she had been a little harsh.

            Vegeta eyed his wife skeptically as she approached the table where he sat.  He truly didn't feel like dealing with her incessant jabbering right now.  Even though she didn't appear to be upset, Vegeta had learned long ago that looks were very deceiving when dealing with his woman.  She was like a volcano; always ready to erupt.  Oblivious to their fellow Saiyan's misgivings, Goku and his son both got up as they saw their long time friend.  Without hesitation, both men simultaneously hugged her in greeting.  

            "Wow Bulma!  You look great, and your tummy is so big!"  Goku exclaimed as he pulled away from his long time friend, stating the obvious.  Bulma chuckled at her friend's observation.

            "I know Goku, that tends to happen when you are carrying a baby."  Bulma replied with a small smirk.

            "Congratulations on your newest addition Bulma.  I have to agree with my father and say that you do look especially radiant."  Gohan finally spoke up.  Bulma turned her gaze towards young man that stood before her and flashed him a brilliant smile at his compliment.  It was at times like this that Bulma couldn't fathom that the well-mannered gentleman before her was the same naïve, little boy she had accompanied to Namek.

            "Stop hitting on my wife boy," Vegeta said deadpan from his place in his chair, killing the moment.  He smirked evilly when he saw the sudden blush flash across the half Saiyan's face along with the look of absolute shock that Vegeta would even suggest anything.  It looked like Gohan was going to say something in his defense until the proud prince held up his hand.  "Don't get so flustered Gohan, otherwise I'll have to believe that there is some truth to what I just implied."  

            "Don't listen to him Gohan," Bulma interrupted before Vegeta could say anything else.  "I know you weren't hitting on me, even if others here can't comprehend that fact."  At saying this, Bulma looked pointedly at her husband and quirked an eyebrow.  Vegeta glared at his wife, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

            "What are you trying to say woman, that I'm stupid?"  Vegeta said icily, rising slowly from his chair.

            "Whoa, you two.  No more fighting, okay?"  Goku asked as he came to stand in between the couple.  Bulma rolled her eyes and peered around Goku to look at her now fully pissed of mate.

            "Vegeta, I was only kidding.  I was just getting the pressure off of Gohan."  Bulma responded calmly.  Vegeta huffed but immediately flopped back down into his chair.

            "Whatever," he mumbled.  Bulma sighed.  Why couldn't things ever go easy with regards to Vegeta.  It seemed like everything with him had to be complicated.

            "Anyway," Bulma began, trying to get past this newest scuffle, "I was just coming over here to say hello to you guys, plus I felt that I owed Vegeta an apology."  Bulma had been addressing the father and son duo before her, but she knew that Vegeta was listening.  Sure enough, Vegeta's eyes snapped over to stare at her.  He knew that Bulma was just as stubborn as he was and that it wasn't very often that she would apologize for anything.  He knew that admitting a mistake put quite a ding in the armor of pride that most people wore; therefore, it was even more surprising that Bulma was apologizing in front of other people.

            "Oh don't worry Bulma," Goku said in his normal happy-go-lucky way, "I'm sure Vegeta will forgive you!  He's sorry too!"

            "I most certainly am not!"  Vegeta almost chocked out, caught off guard by his fellow Saiyan's comments.  "Mind your own business Kakarrot!"  

            "Come on Vegeta, you have to feel a little bit sorry for fighting with Bulma, especially in her condition."  Goku persisted, coming to sit back down next to his one time rival.  Vegeta glared at his friend, a term he used lightly.  The glare and soft growl from Vegeta didn't faze Goku in the least, he just continued looking at his prince earnestly.  Meanwhile, Bulma and Gohan came to sit at the table, fully intrigued by the interaction between the last two members of the Saiyan race.  Goku threw his arm around Vegeta in a friendly manner, pulling the disgruntled monarch closer to him.  "You aren't even a little bit sorry?"  The naïve warrior asked, raising his one hand and gesturing the small amount with his thumb and pointer finger.  

At Goku's touch, Vegeta went ramrod straight in his chair, his face a pure mask of disgust.  Unbelieving that the younger man was actually touching him, a big NO in Vegeta's book, Vegeta looked at Goku's hand then to his face and back again.  Finally, his mind caught up with what was happening and Vegeta sprung up out of his chair and proceeded to punch Goku in the face.  Now granted, Vegeta wasn't powered up so the blow didn't bruise Goku in any way, nor did it send him flying through the air.  It did, however, sent him and his chair flipping backwards.  For the second time that day, all activity ceased and everyone was looking at Vegeta and the sprawled Goku.  Gohan shot out of his seat in reaction and helped his father up, while Bulma had her one elbow resting on the table while she covered her eyes with her hand.

"Now, maybe I am sorry."  Vegeta said coldly, he then turned his gaze back to the stunned crowd.  "What is everyone staring at?"  He yelled once again, sending everyone back about their business, which most likely was gossiping about him.  Glancing around the compound to make sure everyone was now ignoring him, Vegeta slowly sat back down.  Vegeta, despite the fact that Bulma was probably permanently infuriated at him, smirked.  He had just assured that no one else would want to be meeting him today, not after that display.  Goku, who was once again sitting upright in his chair, smiled at Vegeta and gave him a light punch in the arm.

"Wow Vegeta, you are getting fast.  I was caught completely off-guard."  He said with admiration heard in his voice.  Bulma looked at her longtime friend in disbelief.  How could he be happy that he just got punched in the face and was the center of attention to all of Capsule Corp.?  Apparently Gohan and Vegeta shared her confusion for she saw both men looking at Goku as though he had grown a second head.

"Just when I think I have figured out how moronic you can be, you just go and prove that there are no limits to your absurdity Kakarrot."  Vegeta said, awe heard clearly in his voice.

"Hey!"  Was the snappy comeback that Goku came up with.

"Wow, did you come up with that all by yourself Kakarrot?"  Vegeta inquired snidely.

"Man Vegeta, you don't have to be so mean."  Goku pouted.

"Who says I am being mean?  You haven't seen me mean."

"Children!"  Bulma hissed, slamming her hands flat on the table to catch the two arguing Saiyans' attention.  "Can we perhaps act like adults here?"  Both Goku and Vegeta looked at the mother-to-be and Bulma just shook her head.  "I swear, you two are acting just like Trunks and Goten."

"Hey," Gohan finally spoke up, figuring that now would be a safe time to enter the so-called conversation, "speaking of Goten and Trunks, where are they?  I haven't heard a peep out of them for quite some time.  That can't be good."  Bulma tore her gaze from the two big kids in front of her and looked at Gohan, her face paling.

"I never even thought about it until now.  I thought you two were supposed to be watching them to make sure they didn't get into any trouble while Vegeta and I were greeting the guests."  Bulma voice held a hint of panic to it.  She knew the kind of disasters that pursued her son and his faithful follower whenever they were left to their own devices.  Both Son males put their hands behind their heads in trademark fashion and laughed nervously.

"Well you see Bulma," Gohan began, deciding that it would be better if he explained the circumstances around the boys disappearance rather than having his father do the honors, "Dad and I went up to the buffet tables with the boys.  You can't expect four Saiyans to resist the temptation of food for too long,"  Gohan said with a laugh, which died on his lips the minute his eyes beheld the glaring Bulma beside him.  Licking his lips, Gohan continued.  "Anyway, Goten went back to the table and Trunks followed close behind.  Dad and I were still getting some food.  By the time we returned the two were gone.  I was going to go and search for them but then Vegeta came stomping on over all in a huff—"

"I didn't come 'stomping' over, I walked over here calmly and I most certainly wasn't 'in a huff'.  That just sounds ridiculous."  Vegeta interrupted.  Gohan looked over at Bulma incredulously.  Bulma looked over at Vegeta, studying him closely and then turned her attention back to Gohan.

"So what you are saying Gohan is that Vegeta stomped on over here all in a huff.  Sounds about right."  Bulma replied in retaliation to Vegeta's interruption.

"Hey!"  Vegeta said, voicing his dislike in how the conversation was turning.

"Now who sounds like me?"  Goku quipped: quite proud of himself for showing such quick wit.  He looked over at Bulma and his son with a proud grin on his face.

"Good call Goku!"  Bulma said with a laugh.  That exchange effectively shut Vegeta up for the time being.  There was nothing worse than being compared to Goku, at least according to Vegeta.  Seeing that her husband was subdued for the moment, Bulma motioned for Gohan to continue.

"So, as I was saying, Vegeta came on over to our table and just sat down and started talking.  Both Dad and I were surprised to see Vegeta join us, much less talk to us, and I guess we just forgot about the kids.  You know the rest considering that you came over to our table just a few minutes after Vegeta did."  Gohan finished his tale and glanced over at Bulma nervously.  "Sorry Bulma."

"It's okay kiddo."  The blue-haired scientist said with a sigh.  "It would be nice though if one of you tracked down those two little rascals before they do something stupid."  Right as the last word left her mouth, a high-pitched scream was heard from over by one of the buffet tables.  

"Too late."  Vegeta said with a smirk; it finally looked like there was going to be some action at this lame party.  Another was soon heard from the tables set up right by the indoor stream.  Yet another was heard thereafter from a woman three tables to the left of Bulma's.  Soon more commotion was heard as people started getting up out of chairs, things were being knocked over, and more and more women started running and screaming.  Bulma immediately stood up and started looking around.

"What in the world is going on?"  She asked in total bafflement.  She then caught sight of one of her technicians trying desperately to catch something at the table next to her; however, he missed, and Bulma soon had her answer as a large slimy Namekian frog jumped onto the table right in front of her.  Now it was Bulma's time to scream.

"Get it away, get it away!"  She screeched, slapping the frog away so that it skidded across the table to land in front of Goku and Vegeta.  "I hate that nasty frog!  I can't believe it is still alive.  Oh, yuck, yuck, yuck.," Bulma exclaimed over and over again, wiping vigorously at her hand with a napkin.  "Get it out of here!"  She pleaded with the men at the table, jumping protectively behind Gohan.  

"Hey that frog looks familiar."  Goku exclaimed, grabbing the dazed frog by his back legs and holding him up.

"It's Ginyu," Vegeta replied, a malicious smirk spreading across his face.  At hearing Vegeta's voice, the frog captain began quaking in fear.  Of all the people to run into, he had to run into Vegeta.  The only thing that had kept the demented prince from squishing him before was that he didn't want toad guts all over his newly replaced boots.  Ginyu had a sinking feeling that this time Vegeta's boots weren't going to be so new.

"I thought he looked familiar."  Gohan said with a smile, joining the examination of Captain Ginyu.

"Poor Ginyu, he's been a frog all these years."  Goku said, patting the thoroughly humiliated captain on the head.

"I could put him out of his misery," Vegeta said with a wicked laugh and he snatched the frog out of Goku's grasp.  Holding the frog up to eye level, Vegeta smirked as he saw the puny frog cower and then try to wriggle free.  "Oh how the mighty have fallen," Vegeta teased.

"Vegeta!  You can't kill him.  He's defenseless."  Goku piped up, not liking the look in his friend's eyes.

"I don't care what you guys do," Bulma squeaked from behind Gohan, "just get it out of here.  We have to go around and collect all of the frogs those two little hellions let loose."

"Why don't you guys go on ahead?"  Vegeta proposed.  "I'll take care of Ginyu here."

"Vegeta!"  Goku began to protest again.

"Oh stop your fussing Kakarrot.  I'm not going to kill him."

"Good." The taller warrior said with a sigh of relief.

"But you'd be amazed at what you can live through."  Vegeta said with an evil chuckle.  He then placed the now petrified Ginyu down on the table.  "Get along little froggie, I'm giving you a head start.  Not that it will do you any good."  With that being said, Vegeta lifted his hand off the frog and watched as he started hopping at top sped, which really wasn't all that fast.  Once the frog was a few tables away, the Saiyan Prince began stalking on after him.  "Ribbit, ribbit, ribbit," the three remaining at the table heard Vegeta call out, mocking Ginyu's only available vocalizations.  "It's frog stompin' time."

Goku looked like he was about to follow Vegeta, but Bulma placed a hand on his shoulder.  "Forget about him Goku.  Vegeta won't do anything to actually hurt that creepy, nasty frog, although he probably deserves it.  Anyway, I've learned over the years that sometimes you just have to indulge Vegeta's sadistic sense of humor.  Believe me, he is having the time of his life right now."

"If you say so Bulma."  Goku replied, not completely convinced.  He glanced over one last time at Vegeta and shrugged.  And people said that he was easily amused. There was the prince of his people off playing with a frog.  How come no one called that moronic?  Goku's thoughts were cut short as Bulma continued to talk.

"Alright boys, I need you to help these other brave party guests in collecting these frogs.  I'll go and locate the boys.  Wait, check that.  There is Chi-chi right now with our culprits."  Sure enough, Chi-chi was standing over by the entrance to the indoor park, a boy on either side of her.  She was holding each one by the top of their ear, while they wriggled and whined in pain.  The raven-haired woman gave a nod over to Bulma and took the boys back into the main house.  At that moment, Bulma hoped she would lock them in a closet somewhere.  Alas, Bulma knew that was not the case.  Chi-chi was taking them up to the one room both boys truly felt was a punishment: the library.  At their age, there was nothing fun about books.  Bulma turned her attention back to the Saiyans before her, knowing that she would have to meet Goku's wife later.  She had other things to address right now.  "Okay, as I was saying, please help with the frog hunting.  I have to go and start trying to calm down the guest and apologize."

"Sure thing Bulma.  You can count on us."  Gohan said with a mock salute.  "Perhaps this is a job for Saiyaman and Saiyagirl?"  Gohan asked eagerly, always looking for a chance to become his alter ego, especially because he now got to hold a very cute sidekick.  Bulma thought for a minute she was going to fall over at Gohan's question.

"I hope you are kidding."  Bulma asked expressionless.  Once again, Gohan's hand went behind his head and he started laughing very self-consciously.

"Of course I was kidding!"  He exclaimed unconvincingly.  Then, before he could embarrass himself any further, Gohan grabbed his father by the shirt and practically started dragging him over toward the buffet tables.  "Come on Dad, we have work to do."

Bulma watched her two friends as the embarked on their quest and smiled as Goku immediately started eating the food up at the first buffet table.  Same old Goku, he could never stay focused on a task if food was anywhere within a hundred mile radius.  Bulma felt a kick from the baby and immediately started to rub her swollen stomach.  "Don't tell me you want to join in on the excitement little one.  I don't think I have the strength right now."  Continuing to rub her belly, Bulma looked at the quasi-chaos around her.  She was sure that later on she would find this whole situation rather amusing, but right now the humor was escaping her.  This was a disaster that she didn't feel like cleaning up.  Oh well, she didn't have a choice.  She was the host and as such she had a duty to apologize to her guests and try and get everything back on track.  Bulma looked at her watch and rolled her eyes.  Only a few more hours and then her employee guest would be gone, then she could kick back and relax with her friends.  Taking a deep breath, Bulma steeled herself before walking over to some of the traumatized guests to begin her apologies.

Well, there is the first part of the baby shower.  I hope you all enjoyed it!  I do apologize for the delay in the update, I've been extremely busy lately.  Thanks to everyone for their patience.  Anyway, the next chapter  will be tons of fun.  You'll get to see the aftermath of the frog incident, plus everyone will be together for an after-party get together.  Remember that Vegeta still needs to have a talk with a certain you-know-who.  So, as always, let me know what you think!  I have loved all of the reviews I have received and thank you all so very much!  You have kept me writing this story. J

Now for the semi-bad news: I have to send my laptop back to Dell because my keyboard completely died and keeps beeping constantly.  (I finished this chapter using an old keyboard I plugged into my laptop).  So now I won't have my computer for about 2 weeks.  Hence, why I wanted to finish this chapter before I ship off the computer tomorrow.  Therefore, this may hinder my ability to compose Chapter 14 since I'll have to use my sister's computer.  She isn't exactly keen on having anyone in her room for long periods of time, so I'll have to see what I can do.  But believe me, I'll be trying!  Sorry everyone.

Until Next Time…           


	14. Continuing Celebrations

You're What?! Chapter 14:  Continuing Celebrations

            "Keep up the good work boys."  Videl said as she started to walk out of the kitchen.  Once she reached the entrance she turned back around to look at the dynamic duo.  "Some one else will be back in a little while to check up on your progress, so don't slack off."  She then gave the boys a wink and left.

            "Goten, one of these days I am seriously going to kill you."  Trunks grumbled as he vigorously scrubbed a plate, one of the countless pieces of dishware he had already cleaned.  Both boys stood on step stools in the kitchen, aprons tied around their waists.  The heir to the Saiyan throne had his sleeves rolled up and was sporting some very unstylish aqua-marine rubber gloves so that his hands would not prune up due to long soakage time in the dishwater.  Goten, standing next to Trunks, likewise had his sleeves rolled up and was responsible for drying and stacking all of the dishes Trunks was cleaning.  As punishment for their little frog stunt, which Trunks had tried to explain as "frog liberation", both boys were responsible for cleaning one load of dishes.  Too bad for them that one load of dishes consisted of about 200 pieces of dishware and just as many pieces of flatware.  What made the experience even worse for Trunks was that he knew they had an industrial dishwasher that could take care of this mess in about 10 minutes.  At least Goten was used to the manual labor required to do dishes, his family didn't have the money to buy such fancy luxuries.

            "Why are you going to kill me?  It wasn't my idea to scare everyone with those frogs."  Goten whined, hating it when his friend was upset at him.

            "I know that Goten, but it is your fault that we got caught!"  Trunks exclaimed in exasperation, turning to look at his friend in disbelief.  "Honestly Goten, you knew we were doing something that could get us into trouble, so what do you decide to go and do?  Oh that's right, you go running up to your mother when she is calling your name, and to make matters worse you told her where I was hiding!"

            "How was I supposed to know that my mom was calling me because she was going to punish me?  What if something was wrong?  Besides, you aren't supposed to disobey or lie to your parents.  So, I had to tell my mother the truth when she asked me where you were."  Goten stated simply, his face the picture of innocence.  Trunks just stared at his friend deadpan.  "What?"  Goten questioned in confusion, not fully understanding why his friend was staring at him like that.

            "I will never understand you."  The troublesome prince announced after a short pause.  Goten tilted his head and waited for his friend to elaborate.  "Yep, you are definitely not a normal kid.  Normal kids cause trouble all the time and then lie to avoid getting caught or punished.  It is just they way the world works."  Trunks had stopped washing dishes and was now facing Goten, who was listening intently.  Trunks was waving his scrubbing brush around, accentuating his points.  "It is our job to do such things in order to keep our parents' on their toes.  Think about how boring their lives would be if I didn't come up with these awesome pranks.  Subconsciously, parents love it when we pull such hi-jinks and then try and get away with it.  It's like a battle of wits, and we have to win!  Anyway, back to what I was saying, you are the only kid I know that causes some trouble and then surrenders without even putting up a fight.  It is very disappointing to all parties involved.  I see now that you have a lot to learn my friend."  The lavender-haired child finished up his speech by poking Goten in the chest with his brush, leaving a wet, soapy spot on his shirt.

            "Wow, I never knew that parents _wanted_ us to cause trouble!  Thanks Trunks!  I don't know what I would do with out you to tell me all these things."  Goten replied in awe, excited about learning something new.

            "Think nothing of it Goten.  That's what friends are for.  Now let's get back to washing these dishes.  We've missed enough of the party already."

            "Hey Buu, what have you got there?"  Hercule Satan asked as he walked over to his pink, puffy companion.  Buu looked up at his dearest friend and let out a squeal of delight.

            "Lookie, lookie, Buu have a new pet."  The child-like monster exclaimed and thrust out his hand.  Clutched tightly in his grasp was a disoriented Captain Ginyu.

            "Buu, you can't just take that animal.  It has a home here with all the other frogs."  The bumbling con artist, Hercule explained.

            "It ok for Buu to have froggie.  Mr. Vegeta say it ok.  He caught it especially for Buu."  Buu then started to pat the poor ex-Ginyu Force leader on the head.  "Buu like froggie.  Keep forever and ever!"  He declared while grasping the wriggling frog in a strong hug, causing the amphibious captain to let out a low croak.

            "Well if that is the case, then I see no problem with you caring for the frog."  Hercule said with a smile at seeing how happy Buu was with his newest pet.

            "Hooray!"  Buu squealed in delight.  "You hear that froggie?  You all mine!"  Captain Ginyu just looked up at his new "owner" and could do nothing but shudder.  

            Meanwhile, Vegeta smirked as he heard Buu declare that he would now be caring for the frog.  It would serve that devious, little amphibian right to have to spend the rest of his days enduring the whims of that gigantic piece of bubble gum.  Pushing away from the tree he had been leaning against, Vegeta decided he had spent enough time watching the two idiots before him.  Speaking of idiots, just as Vegeta started to walk back toward the tables where everyone was seated he saw Goku running toward him.

            "Hey Vegeta, there you are.  We were wondering where you had disappeared to," the younger Saiyan stated as he came to stand next to his prince.  Vegeta glared up at the man next to him, rolled his eyes, and then continued on his way without saying a word.  "Hey!" Goku called out after being dismissed so easily by his former enemy.  "Where are you going Vegeta?"

            "Where does it look like you fool?"  Vegeta snapped, pointing over to where his wife was sitting.

            "Oh.  Well, anyway, I was wondering if you maybe want to go spar.  I haven't done any training all day!" Goku whined.  Vegeta stopped in his tracks, instantly attracted to the idea of getting some training in, as well as getting away from all his "friends".  He then caught sight of Bulma, sitting in a chair, her hand absently rubbing circles over her swollen stomach.  Then, as though sensing his eyes upon her, she turned slightly and looked over at him.  She flashed him a brilliant smile and waved over to him enthusiastically.  Vegeta closed his eyes and let out a low growl.  The things he did for his woman.

            "I don't think sparring would be a good idea Kakarrot."  Vegeta said quietly.  Goku looked at the smaller man, his eyes going impossibly wide.  Without thinking of the consequences, Goku immediately placed a hand on the Saiyan Prince's forehead, a look of complete concern plastered on his face.

            "What's wrong Vegeta?  You don't feel like you have a fever!  Oh Dende, you're dying aren't you?!"  Goku said in a panic, letting his imagination run wild.  Forcibly, Vegeta pushed Goku's hand away from his face.

            "No, I am not dying," Vegeta spit out, barely getting past his shock that Goku had the audacity to touch him in such a familiar fashion.  Granted, the two were no longer enemies, and maybe, just maybe, Vegeta was starting to think of the lunk-head next to him as a friend (not that he would ever admit that to anyone) but he would be damned if he allowed Goku to act as casually with him as the younger Saiyan did with his other friends.  "And for future reference, if you want to keep your arms, don't ever touch me again."  Goku took the comment in stride, he didn't expect anything else from his prince.

            "I guess you truly are feeling ok." The tall warrior said with a laugh, his fear subsiding.  "I have just never heard you turn down a fight before."

            "I'm just looking out for my best interest; picking the lesser of two evils.  If I go spar with you, I will have one pissed off hormonal, pregnant mate on my hands.  However, if I stay I will still be able to spar later on _AND_ I won't have an angered wife.  Patience is a virtue you apparently know nothing of, Kakarrot."  Vegeta said with a smirk, his whole posture screaming superiority.

            "I'll vouch for that," Chi-chi said, butting into the conversation as the last two Saiyans came within earshot of the group sitting around Bulma.  "I swear that Goku is worse than the kids when it comes to having a little patience!"

            "It is forgivable," Vegeta stated, an evil smirk coming to his face.  "One too many hits to the head can do that to anyone."  Then, if it was possible, his smirk turned a tad bit more sinister as he leaned toward the raven-haired housewife.  "Then again, I don't blame him for his lack of patience when it comes to hanging around you and the rest of the losers here."

            "Why you son-of-a-" Chi-Chi started to shout, only to have Gohan leap out of his seat and cover her mouth, noticing young Marron sitting next to her  half-android mother.

            "MOM!" Gohan exclaimed in shock.  "There is a child present."  He then took his hand away from his mother's mouth, and immediately regretted it for her fury then settled on him.

            "I can't believe you would take his side!"  Chi-chi screeched with a sense of betrayal.  "Why are both of my children delinquents?"  

            "Maybe you should look in the mirror."  Vegeta quipped sarcastically.

            "Vegeta!" Bulma exclaimed, after finally lifting herself out of her sitting position.  "That's enough.  You just had to get her started, didn't you?"

            "What do you mean 'get her started'?"  Chi-chi said, uncharacteristically quiet.  Bulma looked over at the disgruntled woman like a deer caught in the headlights.

            "I didn't mean anything," Bulma said rather unconvincingly.  

            "Oh, I think you meant something."  Chi-chi hissed out, her fists resting on her hips and her eyes narrowing.  Vegeta, whom was still standing next to Goku, poked him in the ribs with his elbow. 

            "Get a handle on your mate Kakarrot.  As amusing as your harpy can be to bait, she never knows when to quit and she is crossing the line right now."  Vegeta commanded in a hushed voice to his younger Saiyan.  He was not fond of the black-haired witch setting her sights on his mate, especially in her emotional state.  Goku immediately jumped away from Vegeta at that suggestion, however, his face was frozen in fear.

            "You mean you actually want me to talk to Chi-Chi when she is all worked up!  That's suicide!"

            "What did you just say Goku!?" Chi-chi yelled, her face flushing a beet red in her anger.  Vegeta's plan had worked.  The banshee's anger was no longer focused on his wife.  Goku let out a very undignified squeak of fear before bolting off in the opposite direction.  "Oh no you don't Son Goku!  Get back here!"  Chi-chi called out as she chased on after her husband, that mysterious frying pan gripped in her hands.  Once the dysfunctional couple was gone an awkward silence fell over the group.  Everyone looked at one another as though not sure how they should react.  Finally, it was Krillin who broke the silence when he finally burst out laughing.

            "Oh man," the short man gasped out between his laughter, "and I thought my wife was bad!"  His joke brought laughter to the rest of the group, except Vegeta, Piccolo, and Android 18.  However, even the Saiyan and Namek were smirking in amusement at Krillin's unexpected jab directed at both Chi-chi and his wife.

            "Very funny Krillin," 18's silky voice cut through the laughter, her voice was dripping sarcasm.  "If you think I'm bad now, you have not seen anything yet."  Immediately Krillin shut up with a little "eep" of surprise and fear.  His reaction caused another round of laughter to erupt from the group of friends.  Finally, as the laughter subsided, everyone went back to their own mingling.  Master Roshi, Krillin, Hercule, and Yamcha went over to one of the tables to start up a game of poker.  Bulma sat back down in her chair next and looked at the group surrounding her.  To her left sat Marron, then 18, Gohan, Videl, Oolong, and her parents.  Bulma glanced over at her husband and saw him standing next to Piccolo, neither one of them were talking but just standing next to each other in a companionable silence.  The blue-haired scientist smiled and turned her attention back to the group.

            "So, you two," Bulma began, addressing the newly engaged pair at the table, "when are you planning on having a little buddle of joy?"  She gave a small smirk as she saw the young couple blush.  "My little one could certainly use a playmate, and I'm sure little Marron would like that too!"  Bulma said while rubbing her rounding stomach and gave the little girl to her left a wink. 

            "Um, Gohan and I haven't really talked about having a child yet," Videl said shyly, still not used to answering questions of this nature, even though Chi-chi had been pestering her since the day after they announced their engagement about the importance of giving her a grandchild to spoil.  "We aren't even married yet."  Videl reminded with a nervous laugh.

            "Well, are you even considering it in the future?"  Bulma pressed, just trying to keep some form of conversation going.  She didn't expect them to be planning for a baby at this time.  Like Videl had said, the happy couple was not even married yet.  This time it was Gohan who answered and he was equally embarrassed about the topic of conversation being focused on him and his soon-to-be wife.

            "We are both very excited at the prospect of having children in the future.  I love the idea of being a father one day, and I think Videl would make an excellent mother," Gohan said softly, looking over at his wife earnestly.  Videl blushed, but smiled at his compliment.  Bulma sighed wistfully when she saw Gohan place his hand over Videl's.

            "Ah, young love.  Too bad some people in the general vicinity don't know what it means to romance a woman!"  Bulma called over her shoulder, directly at Vegeta, in a teasing manner.  Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and gave a grunt of annoyance, in no way ready to join a conversation of that topic.  Bulma shook her head and began speaking back toward the young couple.  "I swear, there I times I think I must have the plague because Vegeta won't touch me like that."  The mother-to-be exclaimed, motioning to Gohan and Videl's entwined hands.

            "Well apparently Vegeta is touching you somewhere or else we wouldn't all be here today!"  Oolong said with a lecherous grin, his mind in the gutter, as always.  That statement caught the attention of everyone in the area and all eyes turned toward Bulma's table.

            "You guys talking about Bulma and Vegeta's sex life?" Roshi called out, practically drooling at the mental pictures that conjured up.  

            "We most certainly are not!"  Bulma sputtered out, not liking the turn this conversation had taken.

            "Well that is what it sounded like from here!"  The old turtle hermit countered.  "Why are you so flustered Bulma my dear?  You, of all people, should not be embarrassed!"  He paused as a thought hit him.  "Unless you are embarrassed because there is nothing good to discuss."  Immediately Vegeta bristled.

            "Or maybe it is so good she is rendered speechless just thinking about it!"  Vegeta responded passionately, not wanting anyone to think that he could not pleasure his own mate.  Bulma glanced over at her parents and blushed.  Why did she even bother inviting these people over to her house any more?  She decided that she must be a glutton for punishment.  Roshi caught the blush that colored Bulma's cheeks and he let out a wheezing laugh.

            "Ha!  It's true: the sex must be mind-blowing.  I haven't seen the girl blush like that in years!"  The pervert exclaimed in glee, hopping up out of his chair.

            "Now that sounds promising!"  Oolong said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.  "Come on Bulma, give us the scoop.  I want details!"

            "Well I don't!"  Yamcha said in disgust.  Although he did not think of Bulma in a romantic way, that didn't mean he wanted to hear about her sex life with the Saiyan that stole her from him.  "You can go ahead and keep you lips sealed Babe."  Then as an afterthought, Yamcha turned to Vegeta.  "That goes double for you."

            Vegeta narrowed his eyes at the scarred human.  It was no secret that Yamcha was Vegeta's least favorite person.  He would never get over that little bit of jealousy he held towards the man for being with Bulma before he was.  Vegeta walked up to the poker table and immediately Roshi sat back down, figuring the monarch was coming over to speak to him.  The four Earthlings looked at Vegeta, an uneasiness hanging in the air.

            "Human, come with me.  We need to speak."  Vegeta stated suddenly.  Then, without waiting, Vegeta started to head back toward the main house on the other side of the park, effectively telling the person to follow him.  Although he had not said a name, and all of those present at the poker table were human, there was no doubt on whom Vegeta was talking to.  "Human" had been Yamcha's nickname, if that was what you wanted to call it, ever since Vegeta had come to stay at Capsule Corporation.  Krillin was "Baldy", and even though he now had hair, Vegeta was not going to waste his time coming up with a new name.  The little man wasn't worth it.  Master Roshi was always called "Pervert", amazingly enough.  And finally, Hercule was the only one with a constantly changing name, but they all stayed along the lines of "Idiot" or "Moron".  

            Yamcha got up, confusion written all over his face.  Why, of all the people here, did Vegeta want to talk to him?  Deciding that it would be best not to keep the grumpy Saiyan Prince waiting, the scarred fighter hurried after the disappearing father-to-be.  Once they were on the other side of the indoor park, out of sight, and earshot, of all the other guests, Vegeta spun around in mid-stride to face Yamcha.  The tall human almost ran over the smaller alien, due to the fact that he had not been expecting him to stop so abruptly.  The two warriors stood there facing each other for a few moments, one scowling the other looking completely lost.  

            "What did you want to talk to me about Vegeta?"  Yamcha finally inquired, not liking the uncomfortable silence.  At first he didn't think the prince was going to answer him, for he continued to glare at the man before him with an unreadable glint in his eyes.  Then, just as abruptly as he had stopped, Vegeta began pacing like a caged animal in front of Yamcha.  Now the ex-boyfriend was getting nervous.  Vegeta was agitated, that could only spell trouble for Yamcha.

            "I don't like you human and I don't think I ever will," Vegeta began, his voice a soft growl.  Yamcha blinked at that statement.  It was definitely not what he was expecting Vegeta to say.  Vegeta must have seen his reaction for a small smirk suddenly tugged at one corner of his mouth.  "I'm sure you already knew that though.  Just as I know you certainly could care less about me."  The whole time he was talking, Vegeta continued to pace.  

            "Vegeta, does this have a point?"  Yamcha said in annoyance.  He was not one to sit around and deal with Vegeta's cryptic speeches.  Vegeta suddenly stopped pacing and whipped around to stare pointedly at the human before him.

            "Of course I have a point.  I was just getting to it."  The Saiyan monarch snapped.  He then promptly, but casually, walked over to Yamcha and proceeded to punch him in the face.  Since he wasn't powered up the punch did not do much damage to the man.  It did, however, cause Yamcha to fall to the ground, clutching his right eye that would definitely be bruised by the end of the night.  

            "Ow!  What was that for?"  Yamcha said in a semi-whiny voice, while still sprawled on the ground.  He looked up to see the darkened Vegeta staring down at him.  With the lights shining down from the dome, Vegeta was effectively masked in shadow, as his back blocked the light.  Vegeta let out a low growl and mumbled "pathetic" under his breath, seeing how easily the so-called warrior was caught off guard.  Yamcha finally sat up and continued to look at Vegeta.  "Well, if you were going to hit me again, you would have done it by now.  So, I'll ask again; what was that first punch for?"

            "That," Vegeta clipped out, pointing to his eye, "was for trying to take what is mine."  

            "I thought you were perfectly clear on the fact that Bulma and I are just friends.  I don't ever plan on trying to 'take' her from you, and I doubt she'd even be wooed anyway."  Yamcha rationalized, believing that the Saiyan Prince was talking about his mate.  That thought was quickly dashed.

            "I'm not talking about Bulma, you idiot!"  Vegeta hissed, annoyance clearly heard in his voice.  He saw the absolute cluelessness flash across the younger man's face and Vegeta practically snarled.  "I'm talking about Trunks!"

            "Trunks?!"  Yamcha questioned, growing more and more lost by the second.  "Vegeta, I don't know what I did that gave you the impression I was trying to take your son, but I am not.  Trunks is a cool kid and all, but I have no desire to take him in as my own.  Nor do I want to kidnap him, if that is what you are talking about."  The scarred warrior added as an afterthought.

            "Have you been hanging around Kakarrot?"  The shorter warrior questioned rhetorically.  "Because, I think his stupidity his contagious.  Not that I would ever consider you intelligent, but this is worse than normal.   Think real hard about what I am talking about."  

            Yamcha paused for a second and started to think back.  He couldn't  remember a time he had tried to take Trunks, especially anytime recently.  Then it clicked.  This was something way back in the past.  Vegeta wasn't talking about Yamcha physically trying to take Trunks away, he meant that Yamcha had tried to claim him as his own.  The tall human could not begin to fathom how his royal highness had found out about his offer to Bulma back when she was pregnant with Trunks, but somehow the arrogant prince had found out all the same.  Great, with the way Vegeta held a grudge, Yamcha was probably about to get the tar beaten out of him.  Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and smirked devilishly when he saw the flash of recognition finally cross Yamcha's face.

            "Hey, Vegeta," Yamcha said from his place on the ground, his hands held out in front of him in a non-threatening manner, "that was a long time ago.  I only did it because I was concerned for Bulma.  We weren't sure if you were coming back, and I didn't want her to have to carry all the strain of raising a child all by herself.  I only did what I thought best.  Bulma didn't take me up on the offer, why don't we just let this drop."  The fighter said in a calm voice, trying to convince the Saiyan not to "fight" him.  He saw the warrior prince take a step toward him and Yamcha backpedaled, effectively doing the crabwalk in order to do so.  Yet, again Vegeta stalked toward him.  Although Yamcha knew Vegeta wasn't about to go Super Saiyan on him or anything, at least not while inside Capsule Corp., he did know that the disgruntled alien before him would have no qualms about pounding him to a bloody pulp.  Yamcha was not so insecure as to deny that, even without powering up, he was no match for Vegeta, especially an angered, territorial Vegeta.  Yamcha scrambled to his feet, not wanting to face the advancing doom from his place on the ground.  As silly as it might have seemed, Yamcha took a defensive stance, waiting for the next blow.

            Finally, Vegeta stopped and looked at his adversary.  He noticed the weak defensive stance and the flashes of nervousness that showed across his face, although he was trying hard to hide it.  The Saiyan Prince let out a small mocking laugh.  "You truly are pathetic, you know that right?  If I wanted to pound you into nothingness, there is little you could do to stop me."  Vegeta gloated.  To prove his point, he flashed out of Yamcha's line of sight and almost immediately flashed back in.  Yamcha suddenly felt his pants start to drop and was at least nimble enough to catch them before they fell to the floor.  His eyes wide with shock, Yamcha looked over at Vegeta and saw him holding his belt in one hand.  "You couldn't even monitor my movement."  Vegeta stated in disgust as he tossed the belt back at the human. 

            Yamcha eyed the Saiyan warily, he was acting so strange.  He was neither yelling at him, nor beating him up.  Something was not right here and Yamcha didn't want to know what was in store for him.  His belt in place, Yamcha gathered all the courage he had and again addressed Vegeta.  "Why did you bring me over here Vegeta?  I know it wasn't to gloat about how easily you could kick my ass, you've always had that power.  I don't get to see my friends very often and I'd prefer not to be standing around wasting my time with you and your strange behavior."

            "Will you just shut up?  I'm getting there!"  Vegeta bellowed, while grabbing the front of Yamcha's favorite yellow suit and pulling him down to face level.  He then let go with a push and once again Yamcha found himself on the ground.  This time, however, the human made no attempt to get up.  He was resigned to let Vegeta say whatever it was he was struggling to say at his own pace.  Resuming his pacing, his arms once again across his chest, Vegeta shot icy glares at his mate's ex-boyfriend.

            "I will never forgive you for trying to reclaim Bulma while I was gone, nor will I ever forgive you for attempting to claim my royal heir as your own.  Both offenses would be punishable by death in my kingdom."  Vegeta finally began, his voice cold and harsh.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Yamcha pale slightly at the mention of death, and Vegeta smirked.  "However, this is not my kingdom and so you live.  But know this human, my dislike for you is as strong as ever, so just keep that in mind when you are in my presence.  Don't ever presume you can talk to me as you did back there.  I am not your friend and you are not mine!"  Yamcha once again held up his hands in a sign of peace.

            "Settle down Vegeta, I said like six words to you.  Hardly a conversation in my book."  At the murderous glare he received, Yamcha immediately changed his tactic.  "But fine, you win Vegeta.  I won't ever talk to you or try and run into at these get togethers.  Believe me, it will be no skin off my nose."  With that Yamcha stood up, believing the conversation to be over.  Turning away from Vegeta, he took about a half a step before bumping into Vegeta's solid frame.

            "I'm not finished!  I have to get this out of my system."  Vegeta said more to himself than to Yamcha.  He then mumbled two words: thank you.  Yamcha leaned forward, not catching the words.

            "What did you just say?  I couldn't hear you?"  The tall warrior asked in confusion, becoming more and more baffled by Vegeta's behavior.

            "I said thank you, you ungrateful little fool!"  Vegeta snapped out, angered that he was even saying such a thing to the man before him.  Yamcha's jaw just about hit the ground when he heard Vegeta's statement.  Why would Vegeta be thanking him?  His mind was coming up with a complete blank as to what he could be referring to.

            "What for?"  He asked, genuinely confused.

            "I know I was not there for Bulma when she was pregnant with Trunks.  You were.  While I'll always hate you for having that time with her, and will never get over this itching urge to blast you for your presumptuous nature as to whether or not I would return; I know you were good to her.  She said so herself.  I don't believe she would have survived the pregnancy and birth if not for you.  For that, I am grateful.  So, there, I said it, and it is the only time you will ever hear it so don't get used to it.  And don't think this changes anything between us.  Just because I may have given you a minute speck of gratitude does not mean I still don't want to see you tortured.  Oh, and before I forget, if you call my mate 'babe' one more time I will personally remove your tongue from your mouth."  Vegeta announced, his voice growing increasingly harsh.  Vegeta had stopped his pacing and was standing in trademark fashion, his eyes downcast on the ground.  Yamcha looked at Vegeta in shock, but quickly covered it up.  He didn't want to make Vegeta feel uncomfortable.

            "Thanks Vegeta.  In regards to the whole torture thing, the feeling is mutual.  As I said before, I only did what I thought was best for Bulma.  I won't lie and say I had no hopes of winning her back during that time, but first and foremost, I was her friend.  She needed that the most.  I am only glad that I was there for her.  And since now I feel guilty, I suppose I should say thank you as well."  At this, Vegeta's eyes snapped up and he could not quite hide the surprise on his face.  Yamcha could read the question in Vegeta's eyes and decided to elaborate.  "While I'll never forgive you for stealing Bulma from me, I see how happy you make her.  She has a sparkle in her eyes that I was never able to put there.  She loves you with all her heart.  I'm just glad you have been there for her and given her the life I could not.  I have always just wanted to see her happy.  You have done that, so thanks."  Then without waiting for the awkward silence that was bound to fall after two such admissions from warriors that hated each other, Yamcha turned and started to walk on back towards the party.  And even though he may have a little more respect for the Saiyan whom was still rooted to the spot, no doubt analyzing everything that had just occurred, Yamcha covered his swelling right eye and thought about all the things he would do to that arrogant little troll who had given him the hideous black eye if he had the power.

            Bulma glanced around the immediate area and yawned.  It was getting late and it appeared that everyone was starting to get ready to leave.  Standing up to say her good-byes she finally saw Vegeta.  He was over by Piccolo doing some sort of meditation by the indoor stream.  Bulma had been wondering where her husband had gone to when Yamcha came back from their little "chat" and he had not.  Speaking of Yamcha, her poor ex-boyfriend was still clutching a bag of ice to his almost completely swollen eye as he left the compound.  She had asked him what had happened and where Vegeta was, but Yamcha had only given her a lopsided grin and told her not to worry and that things were better than they had ever been.  Krillin, 18, and Marron had left a little while ago when their daughter started falling asleep in her chair.  Gohan and Videl approached her, each giving her a hug and words of congratulations.  With their departure, Piccolo got up from his meditative pose and moved to leave, only giving Bulma a nodded and a small smirk as way of farewell.  Bulma shook her head; same old Piccolo, no physical touching or lengthy conversations.

            Approaching the designated card table, Bulma smiled as she saw Majin Buu playing poker and apparently doing pretty well by the looks of annoyance and complete shock on the faces of Roshi, Oolong, and Mr. Satan.  "So, who is winning?"  Bulma asked with a small smile as she came to stand behind the pink blob known as Buu.  She rested a hand on the back of his chair and leaned against it.

            "Buu win!  Buu win!"  The happy monster exclaimed in excitement.  Everyone else around the table groaned.  Bulma watched them all finish off their last hand.  The blue-haired scientist held in her laughter at seeing Buu discard two cards only to receive the two cards he needed for a royal flush.  Either he was cheating, or he was extremely lucky.  She knew he sounded naïve and childlike, but there were times when Buu was deceptively smart.  

            "Well that's enough cards for me," Hercule exclaimed after they all laid down their cards and Buu won easily.  "I can't take too much more of this losing.  Besides, I think it is time Buu and I headed on home."  Buu jumped up out of his chair at that suggestion, apparently he was ready to leave as well.  Both said their farewells and were gone.  Now that there were two available seats, Bulma sat down.

            "So, how about it Bulma?  We could play some strip poker."  Master Roshi said in a suggestive voice, his eyes no doubt looking her up and down behind his goofy sunglasses.  Oolong looked equally enthused at the idea.

            "Aw, I would boys," Bulma began in an overly-sweet and completely sarcastic voice, "but I don't think Vegeta would like it too much.  I don't want him to kill you over something as silly as a game."  Both the old man and the shape-shifter looked at one another in panic before hopping out of their seats.  Vegeta was walking towards them, and somehow, no matter how far away he was, Vegeta always seemed to know when the two perverts were hitting on Bulma.

            "Well, perhaps we will play some other time."  Roshi said in a rush, grabbing Oolong's arm.  "Oolong and I have to get going.  I forgot that we have a very important date.  Can't break important dates, don't you know."  Then the two perverts were hustling out of the compound, both yelling goodbye to Bulma over their shoulders.  Bulma shook her head.  Those two would never learn.  Now sitting at the table alone, Bulma looked at her approaching mate and smiled.  He actually looked content.  Then again, it was probably due to the fact that everyone was now gone.  Or so they thought.  Suddenly Bulma heard her name being called in a hushed, but urgent, whisper.  Looking around she caught sight of one of the tablecloths moving.  Glancing at her husband curiously, Bulma hoisted herself out of the chair and walked toward the talking table.  Lifting up the tablecloth she found Goku camped out under the table.

            "Goku!  What are you doing under there?"  Bulma exclaimed in shock.  Vegeta came up next her and stared at his one time rival in amusement.  This had to be good.

            "Don't be so loud Bulma!"  Goku said again in that hushed whisper.  "Is Chi-chi gone yet?  I've been hiding under this table for a good two hours and my head is killing me."  The tall warrior whined while rubbing his head.  "Never underestimate the power of a frying pan."

            "Never underestimate the power of a psycho mate," Vegeta said with a laugh.

            "What did you say?!"  A decidedly female voice called out shrilly.  All three at Goku's table tensed.

            "You have got to be kidding me!  You aren't done bitching yet?"  Vegeta exclaimed, amazed at the temper Goku's mate possessed.  

            "Chi-chi, why don't you put the frying pan down.  Don't you think it is time to let bygones by bygones?"  Bulma said in an attempt to be peacemaker.

            "Yeah, Chi-chi, I said I was sorry!"  Goku pleaded, moving further under the table.

            "Besides, harpy, I don't think your mate can take too many more blows to the head!  He doesn't need anymore brain damage."  Vegeta cracked with an evil smirk.  Chi-chi whirled on him, her eyes glittering dangerously.

            "That's it!  I've had enough out of you!"  She yelled and immediately rushed at Vegeta.

            "Wow, it must be Chi-chi's time of the month."  Goku said as he crawled out from under the table.  Bulma, not liking when men would dismiss everything a woman does to hormones, although her hormones certainly had control of her at the moment, glared at her longtime friend.

            "How dare you make such generalities?  You know nothing of what it is like to have to put up with all this hormonal bullshit!"  Bulma began her lecture, her voice rising in her agitation.

            It was at this moment Trunks and Goten finally emerged from the kitchen.  "I can't believe we missed the party!"  Goten whined as they walked to the area where all the tables were set up.  They boys had seen many of the guests filing out of the house from their spots in the kitchen.  Needless to say, they never realized how long it would take to do so many dishes!  As the boys came to the top of the hill and looked down at the tables their mouths fell open in surprise.  Vegeta was being chased around by Chi-chi, who was trying rather unsuccessfully to pound the Saiyan Prince with her reliable frying pan.  Both were yelling some choice obscenities at one another that would make even the most experienced sailor blush.  Then, off to the side, standing next to a table, Bulma was yelling viciously at Goku, whom was cringing and trying desperately to get Bulma to stop.

            Trunks smirked mischievously and turned to his best friend, motioning for them to go down and take a seat at the far back table.  Once they were there Trunks immediately took a seat.  "Well Goten, we may have missed the party, but something is telling me that there are still fireworks to be seen."  The older boy said as he tipped his chair back and put his hands behind his head.

Wow!  That was a huge chapter; definitely my longest yet.  However, I think you all deserved it for my lack of an update lately.  As you can see though, I have my computer back, so writing will proceed as usual.  So, I just wanted to thank everyone for their patience.  Hopefully, this chapter makes up for it!  I realize that it is a long chapter, I just hope I didn't lose anyone's interest.  I had debated about making this chapter into two separate parts, but then decided that I really just wanted to get past the baby shower and on to other things.  I had also decided on cutting out the Vegeta/Yamcha talk.  I wasn't sure if I liked it, and I know it takes up a sizeable portion of chapter.  Let me know what you think!  As always, I love hearing from all of you.  Also, I do want to encourage you to tell me what you would like to see in this story.  While I have an overall idea of where I want this story to go, I am always open to suggestions and in fact, I have incorporated small ideas here and there from the reviews I have received.  I guess I just like hearing everyone's ideas of what would occur during this time period and seeing how they match up with my own.  Anyway, enjoy the chapter!  Thanks for sticking with the story.

Until Next Time…  


	15. A Turn for the Worse

You're What?! Chapter 15: A Turn for the Worse

            "Bikini.  No.  Bulla.  No.  Vega?  How did…Vegeta!"  Bulma looked at the list before her and couldn't help but laugh at the scrawling handwriting at the bottom of the page.  For the last month the mother-to-be had been writing a list of possible names for the baby.  With just a little over two months left before the little bundle of joy came into the world, Bulma was starting to panic over finding a name for her little girl.  She was just going through another list, marking off names into three categories: yes, maybe, and no.  So far she had a whole page of nos.  At this rate the baby was going to be named "girl", which she figured would be fine by her mate.  He tended to call everyone by his or her gender anyway.  She was still "woman", from time to time, and Trunks still had the privilege of being "boy.  Hence, it seemed more than likely that this newest addition would be called "girl" every now and again.  

She looked at the list again and stared at what was distinctively her husband's writing at the bottom.  He was hell-bent on naming the child Vega and was doing everything in his power to get her to consider the name, such as adding it to her list when she had not been looking.  Smirking, Bulma lifted up her pencil.

"Vega.  NO."  And with that, Bulma wrote in bold letters a big N and an O.  She even underlined it three times and then circled it for good measure.  The blue-haired scientist knew she was asking for it.  Her husband would not be pleased to see that his choice had been dismissed so adamantly, again.  There was no doubt in her mind that there would be a minor scuffle over the issue.  She could practically envision it right now.  Vegeta would look over the list, see the huge NO next to his choice for a name and throw down the pad in anger.  He would then seek her out and demand to know what was so wrong with his choice of a name.  Then they would debate for the next twenty minutes about the stupid name.  

Bulma propped her head up with her elbow, which was resting on the armrest of the black leather couch in the living room, and sighed.  To this day, she still didn't know why she was so adverse to the name Vega.  It really wasn't that bad of a name.  Perhaps she was being too picky.  As of late, Vegeta's argument for his choice in their daughter's name was: "do you have any better ideas?"  To be completely honest; she didn't.  That's why it was becoming more and more critical for her to find a name, because the longer she waited the better Vegeta's odds of winning the naming game.  The way things looked now, she had a sinking feeling that her daughter would be Vega "Undecided Middle Name" Briefs.

Throwing her pad and pencil down onto the glass coffee table sitting right in front of her, Bulma slowly got up out of her seat.  All this thinking was making her hungry.  Anyway, a break would do her good.  No need to stress herself out.  Putting her hands at the base of her back for support, she began to shuffle towards the kitchen.  At just under seven months into the pregnancy, Bulma felt like a blimp.  She felt huge enough as it was right now, she didn't even want to think about the fact that her daughter still had two more months of growth to go.                     

Coming into the kitchen, Bulma noticed some technical readouts and project designs sprawled out on the counter of the elaborate island in the center of the room.  She had completely forgotten about bringing them down this morning.  As her movement became more limited, due to carrying the half-Saiyan baby, Bulma had been doing most of her work from the comfort of her home.  Occasionally, she may make it to her personal laboratory, but even that was becoming more and more infrequent.  Luckily, she had found these documents before Trunks and Vegeta came in for lunch; otherwise, there was the very real possibility that they would be destroyed in the wake of the Saiyan's feeding.  Carefully, Bulma rolled up the plans and slid them into the tote bag she had been using to transport them around the house.  Putting the tote bag next to her intended seat, Bulma turned her attention to satisfying the cravings that we bombarding her at that moment.

Opening up the enormous stainless steel refrigerator, she surveyed the contents with great interest.  Spotting one of her intended prey, she plucked out a giant jar from the shelves adorning the door.  It may be cliché, but right now nothing sounded better than the huge dill pickles swimming the jar she placed on the counter next to her.  Still not satisfied, the mother-to-be continued her hunt.  Eventually she decided on cold pepperoni pizza and some ice cream as the compliments to her pickles.  

Setting down her food on the large, cherry-wood kitchen table, Bulma went to get the utensils for her unusual feast.  Now armed with a plate, a bowl, a spoon, and a knife, the blue-haired genius settled down into her high-backed chair and let out a heavy sigh.  She was truly starting to feel the strain of carrying this baby.  Perhaps she would have to talk to the doctor about an induced labor, or caesarian-section, delivery for Bulma was truly starting to doubt her ability to carry this little one to term.  Granted she was older than she was when she'd had Trunks, but she hadn't had half the trouble with Trunks' pregnancy that she was experiencing now.  Bulma almost let out a small snort at this thought, and she'd thought carrying Trunks was hard!  This little Saiyan Princess was physically and mentally straining her.  It was becoming difficult to move around for long periods of time, she was constantly feeling worn-out and tired, and when she did get a chance for some sleep the baby decided it was time to train and keep her mother up all night.  Almost as if she knew her mother was thinking about her, the baby let out a rather vicious kick, and Bulma winced with pain.

Closing her eyes, Bulma started taking deep breaths to try and calm herself and, hopefully, the baby as well.  Like she had many time before, Bulma started rubbing her belly in sweeping circles, attempting to soothe her child.  Using her free right hand, Bulma started to prepare her cravings snack.  She took a few pickles out of the jar and placed them on the plate with her slices of pizza.  As efficiently as anyone can with one hand, the president of Capsule Corporation cut the dilled vegetables into small slices and then stacked them on top of her cold pizza.  Her mouth practically watering at the prospect of eating the weird concoction, Bulma sank her teeth into one of the pickle/pepperoni slices with relish.   

After a few bites of her pizza, Bulma switched to the chocolate ice cream she had pulled out of the freezer.  While scooping some of the diary treat into her bowl, for she truly hated eating out of the carton, the blue-haired scientist felt a stab of pain wash through her lower abdomen.  Bulma had a sharp intake of breath at the sudden pain and dropped the ice cream scoop in her left hand as both her hands clutched at her lower stomach, just under the bulge of the baby.  As suddenly as the pain had come, it disappeared.  The mother-to-be sat still for a moment, her mind frantically trying to figure out what had just happened.  That pain was definitely not just the baby kicking, but then again, maybe it was just a sudden movement on her daughter's part.  The baby in her womb was a Saiyan after all; any movement she made was amplified about ten times of that of a normal baby.  After waiting a few more moments to be sure the pain had been a fluke, Bulma picked up the fallen ice cream scoop and wiped up the flecks of ice cream that had gotten onto the table.  Bulma closed up the container of ice cream and started eating a few bites of the cool dessert thoughtfully. 

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again kid: you are going to be the death of me."  Bulma said directly to the swell in her stomach.           

"Why would you say that?"  The voice of her mate inquired from behind her.  Bulma resisted the urge to spin around in her chair to glare at her husband; she truly didn't even have the energy to get into a verbal spar with Vegeta.  Unbeknownst to her, Vegeta looked at his mate's back and frowned.  Normally, if he snuck up on her she would throw a fit and lecture on about how it wasn't nice to sneak up on someone and scare them.  Walking around to come into his mate's line of vision, Vegeta got his first good look at Bulma since early this morning when he left for training.  At that time she had actually been asleep, something he knew was becoming increasingly rare for her.  If she hadn't looked so pale and had dark circles under her eyes, which she had vainly tried to cover up with make-up, Vegeta would have thought her to be extremely cute.  She sat perched on her seat clad in dark blue, flannel pajama bottoms, an overly large capsule corps. T-shirt, and her favorite ratty, old, white terrycloth robe.  On her progressively swelling feet were fuzzy, red slippers.  Her hair was slightly tousled, as though she had just rolled out of bed, which Vegeta was sure she had done.    

"Bulma, what are you eating?"  Vegeta finally broke the silence as his inspection of his wife brought his eyes to the food before her.  

"Cold pizza, pickles, and chocolate ice cream."  Bulma answered with a yawn.  Vegeta's eyes narrowed in concern.

"Why are the pickles on the pizza?  That's just gross.  Doesn't it make it all soggy?"  Vegeta continued with his interrogation.  He just wanted to get Bulma talking so he could try and figure out just how beat she truly was without having to actually ask outright.  Encouragingly enough, Bulma laughed at her husband's barely concealed disgust at her pizza topping.

"Normally, I would agree with you full heartedly; however, somehow being pregnant makes even dirt sound appetizing at times."  The blue-haired beauty replied with a small smile.  She saw the uncomprehending look in her mate's eyes and her smile broadened.  "Don't try and understand it Vegeta.  You can't.  Just be thankful that you will never be held to the whims of crazy hormonal cravings."

"Oh, I'm victim to hormonal cravings all the time."  Vegeta said with a smirk.  His wife's energy seemed to be recovering slightly with the stimulation of conversation.  He was interested to see how she responded to his last statement.  

"Vegeta!"  Bulma exclaimed in surprise, totally thrown off guard by his comment.  "That is _not_ what I meant.  I wasn't talking about sex you horny monkey, I was talking strictly food."  Vegeta came around to the back of her chair and leaned down.

"Sure you were," he whispered into her ear, his voice taking on a husky quality.  Bulma turned her head and gave her mate a quick kiss on his lips.  Now that she was starting to get more and more uncomfortable in her pregnancy, Bulma and Vegeta had taken an oath of celibacy.  There was just no way sex was going to work out at this stage of her pregnancy.  However, that didn't mean they still didn't take care of each other's needs.  Although, Bulma knew Vegeta was just waiting for the minute he would be able to pounce on his wife again.

"I was Vegeta!  And speaking of food, could you possibly get me some of mom's meatloaf from the fridge?  That sounds so good."  Bulma asked sweetly, while giving her mate another peck on his cheek.  Vegeta straightened up and then looked down at his mate with a scowl.  Lately, he had been feeling like he was her own personal servant when it came to satisfying her ridiculous cravings.  More and more, she was starting to rely on him to get her the things she wanted.  He'd already lost count of how many times she had woken him up in the middle of the night only to ask him to run downstairs to grab her something to eat.  Luckily, everything she had ever craved was always in the house, because he'd be damned if he would be going to any stores to pick her up any food.  If that were ever the case, she would just have to deal with disappointment.  The Prince of all Saiyans could only be pushed so far.

Vegeta let out a low growl of annoyance as he made his way to the refrigerator.  Practically throwing open the door, he found the leftovers and pulled them out.  Bulma glanced over at Vegeta when she heard the clatter of the serving dish against the counter.  Normally, Bulma would scold him for being so rough with the dinnerware, but right now it didn't seem to be that big of a deal.  It appeared like Vegeta was going to actually reheat the meatloaf in the microwave, and Bulma raised an eyebrow.  Vegeta was doing something without being asked?  Wonders never ceased. 

"Hey Vegeta, you don't have to warm it up.  I'll eat it as it is.  Just bring me a fork, could you?"  Bulma asked coyly, amazed at how complacent her mate was being at the moment.  Vegeta turned to look at his mate, while shutting the fridge door.  He then looked to the cold meat in his hand and then back to his wife again.

"You want to eat this cold?"  The Saiyan monarch said in barely concealed disgust.  Meat was supposed to be warm and pliable, not cold and hard.  Granted, he had eaten his fair share of raw meat during his lifetime, but it was always warm.  Bulma nodded her head vigorously and then promptly took a final bite out of her pizza.  Shaking his head, Vegeta retrieved a fork and set the plate down in front of his wife.  Muttering a swift "thank you", the blue-haired mother-to-be sank her fork into the leftovers and began her feast.  Vegeta went back to the fridge and took out a couple bottles of water before returning to the table to sit with his mate.

Seeing that the food seemed to have all of Bulma's attention and that some light coloring was coming back to his mate's face; Vegeta relaxed slightly and began to re-hydrate his overworked body.  For whatever the reason, Vegeta had been on edge all day today, as though something evil hung in the air.  Due to such thoughts, the last full-blooded Saiyan had pushed himself extremely hard during his last training session as though to escape from such feelings of uneasiness.  In fact, because he knew he was going to be going all out, Vegeta had not even let Trunks train with him this morning.  Instead, he had sent the boy on over to the Son residence to spar with mini-Kakarrot.  Looking over at the clock, Vegeta saw that he had about fifteen minutes before the boy returned home for lunch at noon. Vegeta was about to ask his mate what was for lunch when a serving-bot rolled on into the kitchen carrying bag after bag of Chinese food.  The smell of the cuisine quickly filled the room and the warrior's stomach growled in response.

Bulma looked up at her mate upon hearing his belly's vocalization and smirked.  "Sorry, I was too tired to get the bots started on lunch, so I just decided on ordering out instead.  I hope you don't mind."  Bulma explained, knowing that Vegeta loved Chinese food, not that there was really a food he didn't like.  "Why don't you just go on ahead and help yourself?  Trunks will still have plenty when he comes in from where ever he his."

"He should be on his way home.  I sent him to Kakarrot's earlier this morning."  Vegeta responded in the clipped voice he used when he wanted no further discussion on a topic. However, now Bulma's curiosity was peaked.  Did Vegeta and Trunks have an argument?  Finally, looking closely at her mate, Bulma saw that he looked ragged.  The red, loose fitting shorts that rode low on his hips were tattered around the bottom, with a huge cut down the right leg.  He wasn't wearing a shirt, or if he had been it had long since been disintegrated.  However, it was her mate's face that gave her room for pause.  His eyes, which normally were closed off and emotionless even to this day, were downcast and truly showed his wariness.  His hair was disheveled and his normal scowl was not seen on his face, just a long drawn out look adorned his perfect visage.  

"Is everything ok Vegeta?  You look kind of drained.  And why would you send Trunks away?  Are you mad at him?"  Bulma inquired; her voice filled with concern.  She placed her fork down and gently laid a hand down on his upper thigh as a sign of support.

"I'm not mad at the boy.  He didn't do anything wrong."  Vegeta snapped, angered by the fact that his mate immediately thought some falling out had occurred between the father and son.  "I've just had this feeling that I can't shake, and so I wanted to train at full force today, without the boy there to interfere."  Only through years of living with Vegeta could Bulma get the underlying message that her husband would never say out loud: he didn't want Trunks to inadvertently get hurt.  Bulma nodded her head in understanding, patting his leg absently.

"Is that why you looked so weary: because of this feeling that you can't shake?"  Bulma persisted in her questioning, not liking seeing her husband in such a state.  Vegeta was about to snap at his wife and tell her it was none of her business; however, one look at the concern shining forth from her eyes stopped his harsh reply.  Instead, he let his shoulders sag slightly as he let out a long sigh.

"Partially.  I can't figure out what has me on edge.  It's almost like something bad is going to happen but I just don't know what.  The other reason why I am so "weary", as you like to put it, is because of you."  Vegeta then placed his hand on top of his mate's, stopping her unintentional patting of his leg.  "If you think I look bad, I'd hate to think about yourself when you look in the mirror.  You look like hell."  The Saiyan Prince stated simply.  Bulma immediately pulled her hand out from under her mate's and attempted to stand up.

"Thanks so very much Mr. Sensitivity!  I know I don't look all that great, and I'm sorry that I am so damn tired.  Why don't you try carrying around a half-Saiyan baby that likes to use your stomach as its own personal Gravity Room!  I believe I am entitled to be a little tired.  I can't remember the last time I got a decent night's sleep.  So, thanks once again for know just the right thing to say to make me feel better!"  With that being said, Bulma turned to leave the kitchen.  She didn't get far, for thanks to his superior speed, Vegeta blocked her escape.  "Leave me alone Vegeta!"  Bulma screamed, tears springing into her eyes.  Suddenly, due to the agitation of her mother, the baby started to kick brutally.  Bulma winced in pain and stood still, rubbing her stomach.  

Vegeta's eyes narrowed when he saw the pain flash across Bulma's face.  Vegeta had felt the ki of the baby rise with that volley of kicks.  Bulma's pain started to subside and the ki of the baby started to settle back down.  The father-to-be was about to ask Bulma if she was ok, when she let out a sudden yelp of pain and clutched her stomach.  She looked as though she was about to collapse, but luckily Vegeta caught her with no problem.  Picking up his mate so that she wouldn't risk falling again, the monarch looked at his mate with concern.  Bulma's breathing was uneven in her pain and her eyes were shut tightly.  Stroking his mate's hair, Vegeta started to carry the mother of his child up to their bedroom.  Bulma opened her eyes as she felt herself being carried upstairs.  Just as before, that sudden stab of pain quickly ebbed.  

"Bulma, are you ok?"  Vegeta finally asked the question that had been nagging him all day.  "I didn't mean to get you all mad downstairs, I just wanted to let you know that I am…concerned."  He said in uncertainty, still not used to using the word "concerned" in regards to another's well being.  Bulma reached up a hand and cupped her lover's face; a small smile graced her face.

"I won't lie to you Vegeta.  I am so tired.  I'm not sure I can carry this child too much longer."  Bulma stated with a twinge of fear and anxiety heard in her voice.  Vegeta nodded his head as he stepped into their bedroom.

"Then perhaps you should not carry it any longer."  He responded matter-of-factly.  "There are procedures to extract the baby, correct?"

"There are.  But Vegeta, the baby is only going into its seventh month of gestation, none of those procedures can be done now without harming or killing the child."  Bulma explained in defeat.

"So?  Am I supposed to let you kill yourself just to bring another brat into this world?"  Vegeta asked harshly, knowing that his mate's death was not an option.

"I'm not dying Vegeta.  I'm just worn out."  The blue-haired beauty tried to reason.

"Then what was that downstairs?  You were in so much pain you were about to collapse from it!"

"It was just the movement from the baby.  Even now, this little troublemaker is stronger than I am.  It always just catches me off guard when she moves.  And yes, from time to time, it really, _REALLY_ hurts."  As she finished her explanation, Vegeta placed his mate down onto their unmade bed.  He took off her slippers and then pulled the covers up over her.  At first glance it looked as though the protective mate was going to say something to protest her statements, but Bulma cut him off.  "Trust me Vegeta.  There is nothing out of the ordinary.  I'll call the doctor later on this afternoon and get an appointment for tomorrow.  Perhaps he can suggest something to lessen the pain, and then we can talk about getting this child out of me as soon as possible, okay?"  Bulma asked optimistically, hoping her idea would fly with Vegeta.  She didn't need her husband getting all anxious about the pains she had been experiencing downstairs.  Perhaps if she just laid here for the rest of the day the pain would subside, and then she could go to the doctor tomorrow and everything would be fine.  No need to get worried senselessly.  

Vegeta glared down at his mate, clearly not one hundred percent convinced that everything was ok.  However, there wasn't too much more he could do.  Apparently his mate was not worried about the incident that just occurred in the kitchen, and although Vegeta did not like having to admit it, he truly had no idea how hard Bulma's first pregnancy was.  Perhaps she was correct and this pain and tiredness was just a consequence of carrying a half-Saiyan child.  Anyway, although he despised doctors, Vegeta liked the idea that she would be seeing her physician within the next 24 hours.  It never hurt to be safe. 

"Fine, but you better make that call as soon as possible.  For now you are to get some rest.  Understand Bulma?  Don't leave this bed.  Watch TV, read a book, I don't care what you do, just don't get up unless you absolutely have to."  Vegeta instructed strictly.  He then turned to the nightstand and checked the intercom box that was resting next to her.  "Trunks and I will be watching the football game for the next couple of hours.  If you need anything just call for one of us.  We'll be in the entertainment room."  Bulma couldn't help but smile slightly at Vegeta's mothering.  The whole time he was issuing his commands, Vegeta had walked over to his dresser and proceeded to pull on a clean t-shirt and shorts, leaving his wrecked ones on the carpet.  Normally, Vegeta would shower; however, he was hungry, didn't want to miss the game, and knew he would probably train later on that evening.   

"Yes sir!"  The bed-ridden mother responded with a laugh, giving her mate a mock salute.  Vegeta growled at Bulma while he applied some deodorant, clearly not liking the idea of his wife taking this situation too lightly.  Upon seeing her husband's reactions, Bulma immediately became somber.  "Vegeta, I promise I won't leave this bed for anything."  She said very sincerely, touched by his concern.  "Now go on and get some lunch, Trunks has been looking forward to watching this match-up all week."

Finally, Vegeta smirked.  "Too bad his team is going to lose.  The Warriors have the best defense in the league.  I'll check up on you at halftime."  The Saiyan Prince stated as he turned to leave the room.  Heading on back downstairs he walked through the foyer and living room.  He was just about to head for the kitchen when Trunks came out carrying a couple bags of the take-out Bulma had ordered earlier.

"Hey dad!  This is the last of the food.  I figured we could just eat it in the entertainment room while we watch pre-game analysis."  Trunks explained in excitement as he guided his father to the huge entertainment room, their official spot to watch Sunday Football.  It was a ritual that had evolved over the last few years when Vegeta had been introduced to the sport, and like most males on Earth, became instantly addicted.  Trunks set down the last of the bags on the huge coffee table that sat in front of a large, overstuffed couch that was situated for perfect viewing of the big screen TV.  Vegeta grabbed the remote and simultaneously father and son fell onto the couch and propped their feet up.  The older Saiyan Prince tuned on the tube and promptly switched the channel to the game.

Since the pre-game show was on commercial, the two Saiyans turned their attention to the feast before them.  Trunks started opening up the boxes of Chinese food and Vegeta prepared the utensils.  Handing his heir a pair of chop sticks, each prince took their own box and began to devour its contents in silence.  Both finishing in about the same time, they looked at each other, smirked, and then unceremoniously threw the empty boxes over their shoulder and on the ground behind the comfortable couch.  They repeated this process until all of the food was gone and a pile of boxes littered the floor behind them.  

With the father and son duo fully satisfied, they both kicked back on the couch to watch the coin toss for the game.  As soon as the coin hit the ground, Vegeta felt a wave of uneasiness wash over him again as it had all day.  What was wrong?  Why had he been feeling this sense of dread all day long?  Vegeta looked at his son, whom was eagerly waiting for kickoff.  How come Trunks didn't seem to be feeling any foreboding?  Shaking his head in an attempt to dislodge the feeling, Vegeta attempted to focus on the game.  However, he wasn't doing a very good job. 

Trunks looked at his father in shock.  What was wrong with him?  He was staring at the screen and yet he was not reacting to anything.  "Hello; Earth to Dad.  Didn't you even see that?  My team just had a kickoff return for a touchdown!"  The sound of his son's voice brought Vegeta out of his stupor and he scowled over at his son.  Great, not only was he feeling some premonition of dread, but now his team was losing.  This day just sucked.  "Is everything ok?"  Trunks asked somewhat timidly for he knew discussing his father's feelings was usually taboo.  However, this time Vegeta actually decided to confide in his son.

"No, I guess I am not ok.  I'm worried about your mother, boy.  She's fine at the moment, but I'm not so sure she can hold up too much longer.  Plus, I've had this feeling all day, like something bad is about to happen.  Have you felt anything?"  Vegeta asked his son, interested to see if anyone else was picking up on the bad vibes he was experiencing.

"Well, now that you mention it," Trunks began; however, he didn't get any farther.  In the middle of the lavender-haired boy's declaration, the intercom turned on and a strangled scream came through.  Abruptly, the scream was cut off.

"MOM!"

"BULMA!"

The two men in Bulma's life literally flew through the house and up the stairs to the master bedroom.  Both men stopped in horror upon seeing Bulma sprawled on her back, the intercom lying beside her as she must have knocked it off the nightstand.  Her breathing was completely erratic, but it was clear that she was unconscious.  Vegeta was the first to recover from his state of shock and rushed to his mate's side.  Lifting her up, he felt a slight dampness coming from between her thighs.  Upon further inspection, Vegeta realized it was some pinkish, red liquid.  Calling out for his son to follow him, Vegeta kicked open the French doors that led to their balcony and flew up into the sky heading in the direction of the hospital.

So how was that for a quick update?  I hope none of you are too mad with my little plot twist.  I have been waiting forever to unleash it.  Don't worry though, all will be explained in the next chapter.  I wasn't planning on this chapter to be so long, but then once I got writing I couldn't stop!  I'm sure none of you are complaining though! (I would put a little winking smiley here if it would show up on the page…oh well, I guess I don't get to be all cute.)  By the way, thanks again for everyone's patience in regards to my last update.  I'm so glad everyone liked the extra long chapter and I was pleasantly surprised by how many of you liked the Yamcha/Vegeta talk.  I was nervous about how it would go over!  Anyway, keep on reviewing.  I love hearing your thoughts and it definitely keeps me motivated!  I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!

Until Next Time…


	16. False Alarms

You're What?! Chapter 16: False Alarms

            "What is taking so long?"  Vegeta practically snarled in his anger as he paced around the hospital waiting room.  Trunks, sitting Indian-style in one of the chairs lined up along the wall in which his father was pacing, looked at his dad and shrugged his shoulders.  "Well, if they don't get out here soon and give me some news on your mother's condition there will be some doctors that will be happy they are in a hospital, because they are going to need medical attention when I am through with them!"  At this declaration, Vegeta stopped his pacing and had turned toward his son; his right hand was balled up into a fist and held in front of him menacingly.  Despite his nervousness about his mother, Trunks rolled his eyes at his father's tirade.  Luckily, they were the only two in the small family waiting room.

            Growling in frustration, Vegeta returned to his pacing.  It had been a little over an hour since Bulma had been brought in to the hospital and they still knew nothing about what was wrong with her, much less if she and the baby were ok.  The distraught mate glanced over at his son who was fidgeting in his chair, trying desperately to focus on what was playing on the small television that was set up in the room.  The older Saiyan Prince could tell the boy was trying his best not to think about his mother.  Apparently, his son was having about as much success as he was.  Vegeta had taken up his pacing about a half an hour ago.  He was not one to sit by idly when things were occurring and he hated feeling helpless; however, this situation made him feel completely powerless.  There was nothing he could do at the moment to help his mate, and it was killing him.  Sitting around wasn't going to help, and so, Vegeta had started to walk from one end of the room to the other in an attempt to kill off some of the nervous energy that was within him.

            "She's going to be alright, isn't she dad?"  Trunks asked quietly from his chair, finally voicing the question he had been bottling up for the past hour.  Vegeta stopped in mid-stride upon hearing his son's words and slowly turned to face his heir.  The warrior looked down at his son at a loss of what to say.  He could tell they boy was trying his best to stay strong, to not show how truly fearful he was about his mother's state.  He opened his mouth to speak, but then promptly shut it again.  Vegeta looked into his son's blue eyes: her eyes.  They were glassy with suppressed tears.  Taking a deep breath and releasing a shuddering sigh, he came to sit next to his son and gave him the only answer he could.

            "I don't know," he said gravely.  "You're mother is a strong woman and so I am hopeful.  However, I don't have much experience in this area."  Vegeta admitted.  Trunks looked at his father in confusion.  How could his father be unsure?  He was supposed to tell him that everything was going to be ok.  

            "What are you talking about dad?  You were there when mom was carrying me, right?  Didn't she go through something like this with me?"  Trunks asked in hopes of getting any indication that his fears about his mother's health were unfounded.

            "I wouldn't know.  I wasn't around when your mother was pregnant with you."  Vegeta replied through clenched teeth.  Trunks backed away from his father in shock, his mind racing.

            "But…but…mom always talked about you as though you were there!  You couldn't have left her!  It just doesn't make any sense."  The lavender-haired boy exclaimed.  He didn't want to think about what it meant if his father had left his mother because it may prove what a small part of his mind has told him for years: his father doesn't want him.  

            "You're mother manipulated her words to protect you from the fact that your father was a heartless bastard that left her to fend for herself when he found out she was pregnant.  She was trying to protect you from me, against my wishes I might add."  Vegeta explained, his voice tight and strained.  At Trunks' scandalized face, Vegeta decided to continue.  "Trunks, now is not the time to get into this.  My past is not something that I am proud of.  You've known that I am not a good man.  Yet, I regret what I put your mother through then and I am here now.  That should be enough for you."

            Trunks looked up at his father with wide eyes.  True, he had a lot of questions he wanted to ask his dad after finding out this new piece of information, but his father was right.  Now was not the time.  Slowly, Trunks nodded his head, showing his father that he understood what his father was telling him.  They would deal with this later.  Besides, his father was always true to his word.  If he said he regretted what he had done in the past then he did, and it did speak volumes that he was here now and had been around for as long as Trunks could remember.  An awkward silence fell between the two Saiyans, neither one knowing what to say to the other.

            Before either one could break the uneasy silence, a doctor came into the room and looked at the family members before him.  Immediately, Vegeta and Trunks looked up at the doctor expectantly.  Flipping through some pages on a clipboard, the doctor gave the father and son duo a small smile.

            "Hello.  You must be Vegeta and Trunks.  I'm Dr. Brown."  The gray-haired physician said in a pleasant voice.  He didn't get too much farther than his introduction before a low growl cut through the room. 

            "Enough with the pleasantries.  What's wrong with my wife?"  Vegeta demanded, springing up out of his chair in annoyed anger.  Dr. Brown looked at the man before him, startled by his response.  He hadn't expected to receive such viciousness, especially since he had come into the room in an amiable manner.  Normally, family members took that as a good sign that their loved one was doing well.  Shrugging the incident off as the husband being engulfed in his concern for his wife, the doctor decided to cut to the chase.

            "Bulma is doing fine," the doctor began before getting cut off once again by the agitated Vegeta.

            "What do you mean she is fine?  She collapsed due to some extreme pain.  That is _not _normal."  Vegeta clipped out through clenched teeth.  He slowly stalked toward the doctor, his eyes narrowed in a threatening manner.  Immediately Dr. Brown took a step back with both of his hands up in a submissive gesture.

            "Please, Mr. Vegeta, I understand your concern, but let me explain."  The slightly frightened physician stated, his voice quivering ever so slightly.  By this time, Trunks had gone to his father's side and placed a restraining hand on his father's arm, stopping his progress.  Wrenching his arm out of his son's grasp, Vegeta glared down at his son before turning the glare back upon the doctor.

            "Be quick with your explanation, _doctor_," Vegeta snapped, using his title sarcastically.  He then crossed his arms across his chest, and although the doctor was a good foot taller than the prince, somehow Vegeta managed to look down his nose at him.

            "Um, ok."  Dr. Brown replied while visibly gulping.  The man before him was positively menacing.  Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Dr. Brown began his explanation.  "Your wife went into Pre-Labor, better known as 'false' labor.  What this basically means is that your wife was experiencing the contractions of labor; however, there was no dilation of the cervix, and hence, no birth. It is a common occurrence for mothers that are in a second or subsequent pregnancy.  Since the uterus has previously been through labor, it is more likely to be stimulated into contractions while not actually going into labor. The contractions can be just as painful as when an actual labor is taking place, which causes for the confusion.  Yet, the contractions are irregular, there is no increase in either frequency or severity, and the pain is centered in the lower abdominal region rather than in the lower back.  Your wife showed all these symptoms."

            "What about the bloody fluid that she was emitting?  Certainly that is not normal."  Vegeta finally interrupted, not believing what the doctor was trying to tell him.  Without missing a beat, Dr. Brown answered the question.

            "Ah yes, the mucus membrane that you felt was Bulma's show, which is pretty much a blood-tinged mucus dispelled from a pregnant woman when she is at the very start of her labor.  Normally the show is a large flow more commonly referred to as the 'water breaking'.  It is not uncommon for a woman to expel a small show when she goes into Pre-Labor.  Normally it is a brownish color; however, it is not unheard of for a woman to have the pinkish show that your wife had."  Dr. Brown finished his explanation and looked at the husband and son before him.  While the boy seemed greatly relieved at the news, the intimidating husband had an emotionless expression on his face.  At least he didn't look like he was ready to tear him limb from limb.  After a few moments of silence, which is normal when given information to digest, it was Trunks who voiced the next question.

            "So, is my mother up?  Could we see her?"  He asked in uncertainty, not quite sure if it was ok for him to be asking questions.

            "Oh certainly!"  The doctor said with a smile.  "I can take you on over to her right now, she is in room 314."  Leading the two occupants out of the small waiting room, Dr. Brown turned toward Vegeta.  "Mr. Vegeta, I've already talked to your wife about what has been going on.  I'm sure she'll fill you in on the rest of her condition, such as the extremity of her pain, and the remedies she can take.  I would recommend contacting your obstetrician as soon as possible though.  He will want documentation of her visit here."   The trio stopped outside of the door to Bulma's hospital room, the door was closed allowing the public figure within a measure of privacy.  Vegeta gave a glare to the doctor before him.

            "Feel free to leave whenever," Vegeta stated simply, his total arrogance returning to him in light of his mate's condition.  Dr. Brown visibly drew back at statement and watched in shock as the two promptly entered the room and shut the door in his face.  The disrespected doctor let out a huff of annoyance at being so easily dismissed.   

            "Asshole," he hissed under his breath as he overcame his shock.  He gave once final glance at the door before rolling his eyes.  He hated dealing with celebrities and their families: no respect.

            Vegeta and Trunks looked at the woman that occupied the only bed in the room.  She lay with her eyes closed, and by the measure of her breathing it was obvious that she had fallen into a light doze.  The two Saiyan princes stood in the doorway as though afraid to move and awaken the sleeping mother-to-be, both of them just stood there looking over her.  The only sound in the room was the slight beeping from the machines hooked up to Bulma.  She looked quite pale, even more washed out than normal thanks to the stark white hospital sheets.  The only color tinting her face was the dark circles resting underneath her eyes.

            "She doesn't look too good," Trunks stated in a hushed whisper, not wanting to wake his mother up.  At the sound of his son's voice, Vegeta ripped his eyes away from his mate and looked down at his son.

            "She just needs some rest.  You heard what that fool of a doctor told us.  She's fine, so quit your worrying."  Vegeta said a little more harshly than he would have liked.  However, he agreed with his son, although he would not voice that opinion to Trunks.  Before anything else could be said, a soft moan came from Bulma, and she stirred slightly in the bed.  Two sets of eyes focused once again on Bulma as they realized she was waking up.

            "Dende, what I wouldn't give for a cigarette right about now," the hospitalized woman said under her breath, not realizing that anyone was in the room with her.

            "Well, it is encouraging to know you would endanger the health of your child for one measly, little death stick."  Vegeta said with a smirk.  Immediately Bulma's eyes snapped open and a hand went to her chest.  On the monitor next to her, the steady heart rate speed up at the small scare she had received.

            "Damn it Vegeta!  Don't do that!  And you know bloody well that I have not smoked since the moment I knew I was pregnant and it will stay that way!"  Bulma screeched.  She then took a deep breath in order to calm herself.  Shaking her head she looked over at her two visitors.  "Well, I guess if you were trying to give me a heart attack you chose the right place to do it at."  The blue-haired genius quipped deadpan.  She then shifted her gaze to her son and held out her arms.  Her son was staring at her skeptically, like he didn't truly believe she was all right.  "Hey sweetie!  Don't I get a hug?"

            Trunks looked up at his father, indecision clearly seen in his eyes.  He knew his father hated shows of affection, and Trunks did not want to appear "soft" in his father's eyes.  Vegeta scowled down at the boy, but then gave an almost undetectable inclination of his head in the direction of Bulma.  Without a second's hesitation, the lavender-haired boy ran into his mother's arms and gave her a big bear hug.  Bulma pulled her son to her and held him close, her one hand stroking the back of the boy's head.  She closed her eyes and sighed in contentment at having her baby in her arms.  Bulma looked over at her scowling husband and smiled before pulling Trunks away from her and kissing him on the forehead.

            "Thanks sweetie, I needed that."  Bulma said addressing her son as he came to sit on the bed next to her.  She then brushed some of his hair away from his face; it was getting a little long.  She'd have to cut it soon.  "Sorry I had you worried baby," Bulma began strictly to her son, for she knew that Vegeta would never outwardly acknowledge the fact that he was concerned about her welfare.  But, that was fine with her: she knew the truth.

            "That's ok Mom.  I'm just glad you are ok."  Trunks said with in all seriousness.  "You are ok, right?"  He asked, voicing his doubts that his mother was truly healthy after seeing her sprawled on her bedroom floor just under two hours ago.  Bulma let out a small chuckle and ruffled the boy's hair.

            "I'm fine Trunks.  Truly.  I'm sure the doctor explained everything to you.  I am just going to need to take it easy from here on out."

            "You're talking about strict bed rest, correct?"  Vegeta finally spoke up from his place by the door.  Bulma looked up at her mate and nodded her head mutely.  He had not taken any strides to move further into the room.  Bulma took note of this and pointed to a chair that sat by the window to the right of her bed.

            "Stop hanging out in the shadows Vegeta; come on over here and have a seat.  You are going to be here for a while."  Bulma stated and smiled at the resounding grunt of disagreement that came from her mate.

            "Not if I have anything to do about it.  We are leaving as soon as possible.  I have more important things to do than sit around here in a hospital."  Vegeta contested hotly.

            "They want me to stay here overnight for observations, just to make sure that everything is normal."  Bulma tried to clarify patiently.

            "Why would you need to stay here if they say that everything is all right?"  Vegeta asked angrily, not liking the feeling that information was being withheld from him.  Bulma rolled her eyes and gave a light shake of her head.

            "Settle down, Vegeta.  It is just a precaution.  They have to protect themselves as much as they have to protect me.  It's like the old saying 'better safe than sorry."  For now, I'd rather play it safe and be home tomorrow with no complications than leave now and have something happen."  Bulma explained tiredly.  The last couple of hours had taken a lot out of her.  When it looked like Vegeta was about to object, Bulma tried a different approach.  "The contractions haven't subsided completely either."  Bulma stated conversationally, as though she didn't see Vegeta about to speak.  "However, they are becoming more and more sporadic." 

             "How long will these contractions last?  Are they likely to reoccur throughout the remainder of the pregnancy?"  Vegeta asked sternly, letting the topic of when Bulma would be leaving the hospital slide for the moment.

            "Although it has happened, the chances of me going into another false labor is very, and I repeat, very minute.  That being the case, once these contractions settle, I should be pain free until this little one is actually ready to come on out.  As for when these contractions will cease, I really can't say.  The doctors don't think they should last any longer than 24 hours.  I've been put on a heavy liquid diet, since non-alcoholic beverages can help stop the contractions of the uterus.  I've also been given some Tylenol to help with some of the pain.  It is one of the few medications that will not harm the fetus if taken in correct dosage."  Bulma stated as well as any doctor could.  Trunks still sat perched on the edge of his mother's hospital bed, half-listening to the conversation his mother and father were having.  Most of his attention was focused on the monitors around him.

            "Hey Mom," Trunks cut through the silence that had befallen the room after Bulma's last explanation, "is this the baby's heartbeat?"  The young boy looked at his mother and pointed to the heart rate beating directly under his mother's.  Bulma turned her attention away from her husband and down to the monitor her son was pointing at. 

            "Yep."  Bulma replied simply, smiling at her son's curiosity.  "That would be your sister's heartbeat.  It's pretty strong, huh?  I bet you someday she'll even be a match for you!"

            "No way!  I know she will be strong and all, but she will never be as strong as me.  I'll make sure of it!"  Trunks stated proudly, his arms going across his chest, which he had puffed out in an attempt to look big and intimidating.  Bulma couldn't help the laugh that escaped her throat at Trunks' proclamation.

            "We'll see.  Don't count her out just because she is a girl."  Bulma scolded lightly.

            "I'm not!  Girl or not, she can't be stronger than me because I am older."  Trunks stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

            "Being older won't make any difference if you don't keep training, boy.  You can't let any distractions deter you."  Vegeta jumped into the conversation.  Trunks whirled around on the bed to look at his father, whom was now sitting in the chair Bulma had pointed out earlier.

            "I'm going to keep training father.  Why wouldn't I?"  Trunks asked in confusion.  Vegeta just let out a huff and promptly looked away from his son.  Trunks just shrugged his shoulders.  He had no idea what his father was talking about.  It wasn't like he was going to lose interest in training as he got older.  What could there possibly be in the near future that would hold his attention?  Certainly not school, friends, or girls.  Trunks almost shuddered at that last thought.  Yuck, definitely not girls!

            "Well, since we are on the topic of training, why don't you two gents head on out of here for awhile?  I could definitely use some rest, and I am sure you two, Mr. Grumpy especially, could use a good workout.  It's been a hectic day for all of us."  Bulma said in a not so subtle hint to get some time to herself.  She smiled disarmingly up at her mate, who was bristling at her little pet name for him.

            "Are you sure you don't want us to stay?"  Trunks asked worriedly, feeling guilty for just rushing off to train while she lay in pain at a hospital. 

            "I'm sure honey.  I don't think I am going to be very good company right now.  I'm feeling very tired and I think a nap could do me wonders.  Just promise me that you'll come and visit me after dinner.  I don't want to be all by my lonesome all night long."

            "I promise," Trunks declared and promptly gave his mother a hug.  He then hopped off the bed and went to the door, turning around to wait for his father.  Vegeta got up from his chair and move towards the bed.

            "Go wait out in the hall.  I'll be out in a moment."  Vegeta commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.  Trunks nodded in understanding and quietly left the room.  Now, it was Vegeta's turn to sit next to Bulma.  He looked down at her intensely.  

            "The boy is gone.  Be honest with me.  Is everything ok?  Those pains must have been pretty severe for you to pass out like that."  Vegeta stated the obvious, finally able to talk to his mate candidly now that they were alone.  Bulma smiled softly and slipped her hand into her husband's, squeezing gently.

            "For the last time, I'm fine.  I know I scared you both, but everything is ok now."  Bulma said in slight exasperation, at a loss of how to convince her family that she was perfectly healthy.  "The pain I felt was intense; however, now that I know what was happening, the pain wasn't too much worse than when I went into labor with Trunks.  As you know, I didn't have a natural birth with Trunks.  The pain was too much.  So, if this is the indication of what I'll have to go through when giving birth to this princess, then I am almost positive I'll have yet another C-section.  No big deal, see?"

            Bulma was hoping to ease Vegeta's troubled minded by telling him that this pregnancy was about the same as Trunks pregnancy; however, her husband seemed anything but relieved.  Vegeta, for his part, placed one of his hands on the swell of Bulma's stomach and concentrated on the ki of his child.  With one well-placed kick this small being could have its mother on her knees in pain.  Closing his eyes at that thought, he whispered two words to her: I'm sorry.  Bulma pulled back.

            "Why?"  She practically squealed in disbelief.

            "I know that it is because of what I am that you are having such a difficult time carrying this child.  A normal human birth would not be so taxing.  I just regret putting you through such unnecessary pain."  He said in a flat voice, his eyes staring at the monitors in front of him.

            "Oh you lunkhead.  Of course it is your fault!"  She said with a laugh and it was Vegeta's turn to pull back.  Bulma grabbed his hand again and brought it to her lips, lightly kissing his knuckles.  "Haven't you learned anything from your stay here on Earth?  It's always the man's fault."  She explained with a cheeky grin.  She then motioned for him to come closer.  He complied, knowing full well what was going to happen.  Just as he expected, Bulma kissed him full on the lips.  Pulling away slightly, she cupped his face in her hands.  "It takes two to tango, Vegeta, so I am just as much to blame as you are.  I knew what I was getting into this time around.  In case you haven't noticed, I am excited about this baby.  I love you, I love Trunks, and I love this child.  I wouldn't change a thing about this pregnancy for the world."  Bulma stated sincerely and kissed him again.

            "Well," Vegeta stated with a smirk, "I guess you are just a glutton for punishment, aren't you?"

            "I guess I am," the blue-haired mother-to-be responded breathlessly.  She then pulled back a little bit more.  "Now, go on.  Get out of here.  You are wasting my precious napping time."

            "I believe it is you who is wasting my training time," Vegeta countered as he stood up and started walking toward the door.

            "Oh heaven forbid I waste anymore of your training time."  Bulma quipped sarcastically.  "I'll see you later Vegeta.  I love you."  She called out as he reached the door.  Vegeta just turned to look at her and gave a nod.

            "We'll be back."  And with that, he walked out the door.  Bulma sighed.  One of these days she was going to get him to say that he loved her.  Reclining her bed back, Bulma started to settle in to go back to sleep when her door opened back up and Trunks rushed in.

            "I almost forgot," Trunks stated in a rush as he came up to Bulma's bed.  He handed her a folded slip of paper.  "It's my choice for the baby's name.  Grandma helped me when I was talking on the phone with her just a little while ago.  I asked her what were some of the other names she was considering when she was trying to name you.  This one was my favorite.  Anyway, I have to get going Dad is waiting.  Bye mom!  Love you!"  Then, just as quickly as he came in, the tornado that was her son, left.  Bulma blinked, stunned at how quickly her son and come and gone.  Finally her mind caught up with her and she looked at the piece of paper in her hand.  Unfolding it, Bulma read the name that was there and smiled.  It was so simple, and yet, it was perfect.  The baby within her gave a gentle kick, almost as though agreeing with the name in consideration.  There, written in the bold handwriting of her son sat one word: Bra.

Whew!  It's done.  I have never had so much trouble writing a chapter, I just couldn't seem to get any ideas flowing that I liked.  This is actually my second draft of this chapter.  I wrote a different version, but I didn't like it.  I'm still debating on this draft too.  I guess it was just so hard to write because there isn't a lot going on in this chapter; it is mostly information.  It is essential to the story, but tedious nevertheless.  Hopefully, it is not too boring.  Let me know what you think.    

I was happy to see that many of you guessed that Bulma was actually going into labor.  Those reactions played right on into my plot twist.  I thought it would be a unique twist to have a false labor instead.  I've not seen anybody use that approach before, so I hope it is an original idea.

Anyway, sorry for the delay in the update, I know plenty of you have been on my case! J  With break coming up, it shouldn't been nearly as long for my next chapter.  As always, thanks for reading everyone!  I love you all.

Until Next Time…


	17. Entering the Home Stretch

You're What?! Chapter 17: Entering the Home Stretch

            Trunks pulled on a hooded Capsule Corp. sweatshirt over his training clothes as he dressed to fly on over to Goten's house.  Normally, Trunks wouldn't bother with such articles of clothing for a flight; however, this year was witness to an unusually chilling winter.  Today was a brisk forty-two degrees outside, and thus, Trunks was not a happy camper.  It almost never dropped below fifty degrees in the city, and to someone who was as acclimated to warm weather as Trunks, anything under the said norm was freezing.  He couldn't comprehend why anyone would live in a place where snow and below-zero days were a regular occurrence during winter.  Shuddering at the thought of being somewhere so cold, Trunks pulled up his hood and tied it close.  

            Exiting his room, Trunks went on over to his parents' bedroom to collect his father whom was accompanying him on his visit to the Son residence.  The door was closed and the boy promptly rapped on the door three times.  He then stood back and waited for an answer while he pulled on some gloves.  After his leather gloves covered both hands, Trunks frowned as he found himself still was staring at a closed door.  Deciding that his parents must not have heard him, Trunks knocked again.  Yet, with his gloved hands the resulting knocks were not very loud.  Hence, the young Saiyan Prince tried a different approach.

            "Mom!  Dad!  Are you in there?"  The boy yelled at the top of his lungs.  Once again, no answer was received.  This time the boy tried the door only to find it locked.  Huffing in annoyance, Trunks crossed his arms across his chest as he thought of what he could do.  They had to be in there, otherwise there was no reason for the door to be locked.  Slowly, the lavender-haired menace put his ear to the door, trying to find any sign of life within the chambers.  From inside he could hear his mother's muffled voice and some low moans, which he assumed were coming from his father.  Standing up, satisfied that his parents were inside the bedroom, Trunks decided to call for his mother and father again.

            "Hello!  I know you are in there.  I can hear you."  Trunks called out, cupping his hands around his mouth for extra projection.  Immediately, the boy jumped back from the door when a guttural growl carried through the door.  That was not a good sign.  That meant Trunks was interrupting on something he shouldn't.

            "Boy, if you don't leave now, I will personally make your next training session with me a living hell.  I'll be down in ten minutes."  Vegeta yelled from within the bedroom, his voice sounding slightly distracted. 

            "Alright, all ready.  You don't have to get your panties in a bunch."  Trunks responded insolently.  Right as the words left his mouth, Trunks felt like smacking himself.  Provoking his father was probably not the smartest thing to do at that moment.

            "TRUNKS!"  His father bellowed, his voice beyond irritated.  With a screech of surprise, Trunks turned and ran back down the hall to his room.

            "I'll just be in my room," the troublemaker called as he booked it on down the hall to the sanctity of his room.  Sliding the door shut as quickly as possible, Trunks slid down to the floor of his room, his back propped up against the door.  The boy pulled his knees up and rested his arms across the joints so that he could lay his head on his arms.  When would he learn to keep his big mouth shut?  All he ever did was get himself into trouble.  Oh well, nothing he could do about it now.  All was said and done.  At least he didn't have to train with his father today; he was training with Goku.  That gave his dad a full day to cool off over the incident, although the Saiyan heir knew his father would have a few choice words to say to him on their flight to the Son residence.

            Trunks sat that way for a few minutes and was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even feel the presence coming toward his room.  Before he could prepare himself, the door to Trunks' room slid open causing the slightly distraught boy to fall backwards out into the hall.  Blinking in surprise, Trunks looked up and saw two pajama clad legs and a swollen stomach covered in a huge nightshirt.  Finally, off to the side of her huge belly, Bulma looked down at her sprawled son with a smile.  

            "Hey sweetie.  I take it you are all ready for your visit with Goten today?"  Bulma asked as her son finally got up from his position on the floor.  Trunks nodded absently as he looked around his mother, no doubt searching out his father.  "That's good," she replied to her son's nod before addressing his obvious interest, and perhaps dread, about where his father was.  "Well, your father should be out in a little bit, he is getting cleaned up a bit."

            "He isn't too mad at me, is he?"  Trunks asked curiously, trying to gauge how much trouble he would be in.  His mother's mood was heartening, since if his mother wasn't mad about his interruption, she probably had settled Vegeta down considerably.

            "Oh no.  You're father just wasn't expecting the disturbance."  Bulma stated kindly, ushering her son out of his room and toward the stairs.

            "What were you guys doing in there anyway?"  Trunks inquired, wondering what he had interrupted that was so important.  Bulma abruptly stopped at the top of the stairs and glanced down at her son, obviously at a loss of what to say.  Trunks tilted his head to one side, his eyes looking up at his mother expectantly.  Bulma opened her mouth to speak, though no sound came out, her right hand circling in the air as though trying to conjure up the correct words to speak.  Finally, the brilliant scientist got an idea.

            "I was just helping your father relieve some stress before he went to spar with Goku."  She then held up her hands and wriggled her fingers in the air.  "These fingers work magic."  Trunks let out an "ah" of understanding as he turned to walk downstairs.  Bulma sighed and looked skyward.  Luckily for her, the sexual innuendo was lost on the young boy.  She knew he though she was talking about giving her mate a message.  That brought a slight smile to her lips.  Technically, she hadn't lied to the boy, she just hadn't stated where she was "massaging" her husband.

            Deciding to follow her son on downstairs to see him and her mate off, Bulma started to waddle on down the stairs, taking the steps one at a time.  Once at the bottom, Bulma stopped and caught her breath.  It was hard work carrying around this not-so-little buddle of joy.  She was just a couple of days into her eighth month of pregnancy and was unquestionably as big as a whale: at least that was what Bulma thought she looked like.  As the days wore on, the mother-to-be was becoming more and more self-conscious about her size and her looks.  She felt totally unattractive, although everyone, Vegeta included, told her otherwise.  Hence, such incidents as the one that had just occurred in the bedroom were definitely beneficial in helping the depressed woman keep her spirits up.  At least Vegeta was still aroused by her caresses and he wasn't so repulsed by her appearance to turn away from her.

            Bulma walked into the living room as best she could and smiled at the sight of her son buddle up on the couch.  His purple mane was completely concealed by the hood of his sweatshirt, drawing all the more attention to the fact that his facial features were the exact replica of Vegeta's.  She couldn't help but chuckle when her baby boy started to fan himself with his gloved hand; there was no doubt that he was getting hot just sitting around in the amply heated house.  Granted, he hadn't expected on waiting so long to leave, but never had it dawned on the child to just remove the heat trapping articles he wore.  At the sound of his mother's laugh, the prince looked up at his mother and he rushed over to his her side when he noticed her start to shuffle on into the living room, her hands clasped under her stomach.

            "Mom, you aren't supposed to be moving around!"  Trunks scolded, helping his mother over to one of the couches.  Bulma let out a small grunt of annoyance.  This over-protectiveness that had engulfed the residents of Capsule Corporation after her false labor was grating on the genius' last nerve.  She wasn't going to break!  She was just pregnant.  Women had been giving birth to children for millennia, Bulma was quite sure she could handle the experience, especially since she had already done it once before.  

            "Trunks, you really don't have to worry about me.  I'm not an invalid.  Since you and your father are going to be gone for the day, I really don't feel like being cooped up in my bedroom.  Besides, some exercise is good for me."  Bulma stated as a rebuttal. 

            "But the doctor said that you should be in bed as much as possible.  You know how much trouble you have carrying the baby."  Trunks reasoned.  "If you wanted to come downstairs you should have let Dad carry you.  He won't be happy that you walked down the stairs by yourself."

            "Oh whatever," Bulma said dismissively, throwing her right hand up as though in an attempt to swat her son's words away.  "You guys are acting like I am made of glass, and frankly, I appreciate your concern, but I am sick and tired of not being able to do anything by myself."  The mother-to-be said a little more harshly than she would have liked, especially with her son.  She sighed when she saw the flash of hurt in Trunks eyes.  "Sweetie, I'm not trying to hurt you.  I do appreciate how much you are caring for me.  You're love means the world to me; however, I don't want to be treated like I am a helpless child.  Would you?"  Bulma asked, placing her hand upon her son's knee.

            "No.  I like being able to do things on my own."  Trunks responded solemnly.  "I'm sorry mom."

            "Oh, don't be sorry!  I still wouldn't mind the help every once in awhile, just don't act like I can't do anything."  The pregnant scientist replied, pulling her son into a very awkward hug, her belly getting in the way from holding the boy too close.  Trunks, for his part, agreed to pull back on his protectiveness and hug his mother back.

            "Is that all you two ever do?"  Vegeta's rough voice shattered the precious moment between mother and son, his voice dripping with disdain as he inquired about the embrace the two were locked in.  Immediately, the two occupants on the couch separated and stared at the man before them.  It was Bulma that had the first thing to say, a smirk that could rival her husband's gracing her lips.

            "It sounds to me like someone is jealous."  Bulma stated in a singsong voice, arching of one of her delicate eyebrows.  Her smirk widened into a grin of amusement at her mate's flustered appearance; however, his usual façade was back in place within seconds.  Inwardly, Bulma couldn't help but smile to herself.  More and more, it was becoming easier to bear witness to Vegeta's emotions.  The mask of indifference he had worn his whole life was finally starting to crack and fall away.  When he had first moved to Capsule Corp., it took Bulma nearly a year to figure out the brooding prince's feelings.  They were so fleeting, that if you blinked you could miss a telltale sign of what he was feeling.  At that point in his life, Vegeta's mask was almost impenetrable.  Only the blink of an eye, the twitch of his lips, or the flash of his eyes would show what he was feeling.  Now, Bulma was pleased to say that, she no longer had to look so deeply to see his emotions.  They were being displayed more frequently, even though his old mask always won out in the end.

            "I am not jealous."  Vegeta objected sternly.  "Why would I want to participate in such a weak display of emotion?"  The Saiyan Prince questioned, reverting to his old tactic of acting like he didn't care.  

            "Why would you want to participate?"  Bulma repeated cheekily.  At her husband's nod, Bulma continued.  "Because you love us." 

            "I most certainly do not!"  Vegeta replied as though nothing repulsed him more.  Bulma struggled to stand up and started to walk toward her mate, whom was standing at the entrance to the living room, apparently ready to leave for his spar with Goku.

            "Someone is in a grumpy mood all of a sudden."  Bulma said softly as she came to stand in front of her prince.  She then turned to Trunks, who was starting to catch on to what his mother was doing, and gave him a wink.  "I think I know what you need."  Then, before he had time to react, Bulma flung her arms around Vegeta's neck, hugging him with all she was worth.  Just a half a second later, Vegeta felt another set of arms encircle his waist, as his son followed his mother's lead.  Vegeta stood ramrod straight, looking for all the world like a fish out of water.  

            "What…what do you think you are doing?"  The sandwiched prince sputtered in shock.  He was never comfortable with such shows of affection, even in the comfort of his own home.  Granted, he had spent a lot of time in Bulma's arms, but that was in the throes of passion, never outside the bedroom.

            "What does it look like, you big dork?"  He heard Bulma whisper into his ear lovingly, her intended insult rolling off her tongue like it was a treasured term of endearment.  

            "Well, stop already," Vegeta commanded, his voice going harsh.  He gently started to push his mate away, and he kicked out his leg to get his son off of him.  Trunks went stumbling back a few steps due to the light kick he had received from his father, while Bulma reluctantly backed up.  Both mother and son stood beaming up at Vegeta, quite proud of themselves for being able to catch the prince in an embrace.  "Stop looking at me like that, or I shall have to wipe those smiles off of your faces."  He stated, trying to sound threatening but failing miserably.  Why he even tried to threaten his family with violence was beyond Vegeta.  They both knew he would never do anything to hurt them: ever.  The Saiyan monarch just figured it was his defense mechanism that would never go away.

            "Let's go son.  I've had enough with all this foolishness.  We are going to be late."  Vegeta addressed his son, while tuning on his heel toward the main entrance to the building.  Trunks looked up at his mother and rolled his eyes.

            "Isn't he the reason why we are running late," the boy said in a low voice, trying not to be heard by his father.  Bulma couldn't help but laugh when the voice of her mate came echoing back down the hall.  Trunks' head snapped in the direction of his father's voice, his eyes wide with disbelief at being heard.

            "I heard that!  Now hurry up or I'll leave you behind!"

            "You heard your father."  Bulma said as she pushed her boy on out into the long hallway.  "Have a good time.  Be careful, do you hear me Trunks?"

            "I hear you Mom.  I'll be careful.  Goodbye Mom!"  Her son shouted over his shoulder as he sprinted down the hall to catch up with his father.

            "Goodbye Trunks!  Goodbye Vegeta!"  She called out.  No replies were heard and Bulma sighed in relief.  Finally, she would have some time to herself. 

            Goku was literally flipping head over heels when he slammed into the side of one of the many rocky cliffs adorning the Saiyan's designated training area.  The tall savior of Earth blinked as he finally got his bearings back, just moments after impacting.  He was embedded in the side of the cliff, hanging upside down.  Hovering in the air above him, his arms crossed across his chest, was the prince of his people.  Slowly, but surely, Goku peeled himself out of the rock that he was encased in.  Flipping right side up, Goku flew on back over to Vegeta.  Both men looked pretty beat up, bruises and cuts covered their bodies, their training clothes were torn, and their breathing was heavy.

            "Wow Vegeta, that was a pretty good series.  I don't know how you can be so fast!"  Goku said in an awed voice, thoroughly enjoying the chance to spar with someone that was a challenge.  Vegeta narrowed his eyes at his one time rival.

            "Stop playing around, Kakarrot.  I know you can be ten times faster than me."  Vegeta bit out.  Goku almost sighed, but held it in.  Why couldn't Vegeta ever take a compliment?  

            "I'm not playing around.  Unless I was Super Saiyan Three, I could never keep up with you.  In speed and agility, you have me beat hands down."  Goku replied in all honesty.

            "And there is the key, isn't it?  I'm not a Super Saiyan Three, and therefore, despite your efforts to convince me otherwise, you are technically faster than I am."  Vegeta responded icily as he felt a flash of the old hatred he used to hold for the third-class idiot before him.  Power had always come so effortlessly for the younger man, and that, no matter what changed between them, would always irk Vegeta.

            "Yeah, but when you reach Super Saiyan Three, I'll be sunk."  Goku said in a serious voice.  Finally, Vegeta's anger started to subside.  He had to remember whom he was dealing with.  This was Kakarrot, the savior of the Earth and believer in all that is good.  Vegeta had to remind himself that no matter how it might seem, the taller Saiyan was not trying to say anything to insult Vegeta.  He was trying to be encouraging, and besides, apparently the fool had no doubts about him reaching the next stage of Super Saiyan.  

            "Just keep that in mind Kakarrot.  Your days are numbered."  The Saiyan Prince said with a smirk, signaling to his sparring partner that he wasn't all that angry anymore.  "Now, we should probably head on back.  It's getting pretty late, and I for one am starving."  Almost as if on cue, Goku's stomach answered to Vegeta's comment by emitting a deafening growl.  Goku laughed sheepishly, putting one hand behind his head in trademark fashion.

            "I think my stomach agrees that it is time to eat."  Goku replied while giving his belly a rub.

            "Kakarrot, that black hole you like to call a stomach always thinks that it is time to eat.  There is no way, Saiyan or not, that you should be able to eat as much as you do.  It's disgusting."  Vegeta shot back, his voice reiterating his abhorrence of his fellow Saiyan's eating habits.  Goku let out another embarrassed laugh.  Both men started a slow decent down to the ground in mutual agreement to walk back to the Son residence.  It would be a good warm down from their rather strenuous workout.  

            "I can't help it," the taller warrior practically whined.  "Food is my one downfall.  I've done some pretty stupid things in the past just for the chance of getting some food."

            "Like marrying the harpy," Vegeta said under his breath even though he knew his sparing partner would be able to hear it.

            "Hey!"  Goku exclaimed in objection.  "I love Chi-chi."  He protested.

            "Maybe now you do, but you can't mean to tell me that you loved her when you got married.  Bulma has told me the whole story on your coupling.  You only got married because you thought marriage was some type of food."  Vegeta retaliated, an evil smirk lighting up his face.  For once in his life, Goku had nothing to say in return.  Instead, he just crossed his arms across his chest and let out a small huff; his whole posture practically screaming that he was pouting.  Now, it was Vegeta's turn to let out a small laugh, although his was condescending.  "Come now, Kakarrot.  There is no reason to pout like a child over your own stupidity."

            "Why do you always have to be so mean to me?"  Goku asked, his voice still holding that slightly whiny quality it takes on from time to time.  Vegeta once again smirked evilly at his one remaining subject.

            "Well, I have to get my kicks somehow," was the simple reply that the Saiyan Prince gave.  "Don't be so thin skinned," Vegeta continued with a light punch to Goku's arm, almost as though punctuating his point.  Goku looked over at his fellow Saiyan dejectedly.  Vegeta let out a low growl at the look and rolled his eyes in annoyance.  "Stop moping about Kakarrot, I was only trying to get a rise out of you.  I swear, you couldn't be any less Saiyan if you tried.  Normally, a Saiyan would not tolerate his choice of mate being questioned.  I don't know why I even bother hanging around you, you are so un-Saiyan like."

            "Whatever Vegeta.  It doesn't bother you to be among non-Saiyans.  You like Bulma, don't you?"  Goku replied, his voice gaining back some of its normal ambiance.  The two Saiyans continued their walk back to the Goku's house, finally leaving the barren wasteland behind them and crossing over into the luscious grasslands and woods surrounding his house.

            "True, Bulma may be a human, but she acts more like a Saiyan than you do.  That was why I was attracted to her."  Vegeta admitted.

            "What do you mean she acts like a Saiyan?  She can't do any of the things that we can."  Goku objected in confusion, not understanding what his prince was getting at.

            "Idiot," Vegeta mumbled under his breath at the companion at his side.  He then stopped in his aggravation.  "Kakarrot, I am not talking about the physical attributes of a Saiyan.  I am talking about the attitude of a Saiyan.  Bulma has a fiery spirit.  She does not back down from a battle, even when she knows she is clearly at a disadvantage.  She has a temper that easily rivals my own.  Plus, she has her intelligence.  Bulma keeps her wits about her even when she is provoked into a blinding rage."  Vegeta paused in his tirade, not truly aware of the warrior standing next to him.  For his part, Goku held in the smile that was threatening to overcome his face.  To think, Vegeta always said that he never cared about Bulma!  A slight scowl graced the prince's face as a thought popped into his head at the discussion of his mate.  "And she is stubborn to a fault."  Vegeta growled more to himself than to his partner.

            "What's wrong?  Did you and Bulma have a fight?"  Goku asked curiously in regards Vegeta's last statement.  He was quick to notice how swiftly the prince had become slightly annoyed and reflective when he mentioned Bulma's stubbornness.  It was almost as though Vegeta was recalling a recent even between the two of them.  Vegeta snapped out of his distracted state and glared up at his once rival.

            "Nothing is wrong."  The Saiyan monarch snapped harshly.

            "You can tell me Vegeta.  It always helps to get things off of your chest."  Goku responded helpfully, his voice earnest as the two started walking again.  It looked like Vegeta was going to refuse, but suddenly he let out a disgruntled sigh and some of the tension he didn't even know he was holding in, left his frame.

            "It is about the brat."  Vegeta said simply, his voice still holding a hard edge.

            "Trunks?" 

            "No, the girl."  The father-to-be said, his voice softening just a bit at the mention of his daughter.  Goku immediately looked panicked.

            "Is everything alright?  Is she ok?"  Goku asked in a hurry, worried about the fate of his friends' unborn baby, as well as Bulma's health.

            "Everything is perfect."  Vegeta replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  The taller Saiyan's face briefly shone with relief, but then quickly became confused again.

            "Um, if everything is ok, then what could possibly be wrong?"

            "Bulma finally decided on a name."  Vegeta's face twisted into a viscous frown, his voice not holding back any of his displeasure.

            "I take it you do not agree with her choice?"  Goku stated the obvious.  Vegeta simply stared at the Saiyan next to him in disbelief.  He truly hadn't asked such a stupid question had he?  Deciding it was best to ignore the inquiry, Vegeta continued with his story. 

            "She decided on Bra, perhaps the most un-Saiyan name ever invented!"  Vegeta ranted.  "And to make matters worse, it was my own heir that came up with the accursed name!"

            "Aw, Bra is a lovely name," Goku said with a grin, oblivious to Vegeta's outrage.

            "Lovely?" Vegeta asked rhetorically, his voice raising in his rage.  "Lovely?  A Saiyan is not supposed to be lovely!"

            "But Vegeta, she is a girl.  You can't expect her to have a warrior's name, especially here on Earth, do you?"  Goku asked; surprised by how upset Vegeta was over the name of his daughter.

            "Why shouldn't she have a Saiyan name?  Bulma got to name the boy Trunks, perhaps the second most un-Saiyan like name there is.  I believe I should have some say in this matter."  Vegeta clipped out through clenched teeth.

            "I agree with you there.  Why don't you just talk to Bulma and let her know how much you truly don't like the name Bra?"

            "Don't you think I have tried?"  Vegeta responded back incredulously.  "As I said earlier, Bulma is extremely stubborn.  She has her mind set and there is nothing I can do to change it."

            "There has to be something you can do if you feel that strongly against it."  Goku tried to reason and keep Vegeta's spirits up.

            "There is nothing I can do now," the Saiyan Prince said in a slightly defeated tone.

            "Huh?  Why not?"

            "I sort of agreed to the name this morning."  Vegeta mumbled under his breath.  Goku's mouth dropped in shock, confusion written clearly across his face.  Not waiting for Goku to ask the obvious question of why Vegeta would have agreed to a name he hated, Vegeta decided to elaborate.  "The woman sprung it on me at an inopportune time; the conniving, little minx."  He said the last part with the barest hint of pride coloring his words.

            "How'd she manage that?"  The naive warrior asked.

            "She had me preoccupied when she asked me about the name."  Vegeta explained without getting into graphic details.  Goku looked at his prince, clearly not following what Vegeta was trying to convey.  "In the bedroom."  Vegeta stated in an attempt to get his fellow Saiyan to understand what he was talking about.  Still, Goku looked at the smaller man before him uncomprehending.  "Nevermind," Vegeta exclaimed in frustration.  "All you need to know is that I agreed to the name due to Bulma's underhanded tactics."

            A pause came over the conversation, Vegeta not wanting to talk anymore, and Goku not sure what he should talk about next.  The two walked in silence for about a mile when they felt the kis of their sons approaching them.  Wondering why the boys would come looking for them, especially when Vegeta had made it clear to Trunks on the flight over that he did not want to see hide nor hair of him during his training, Vegeta levitated up into the air to meet the two rambunctious children.  Goku followed Vegeta's lead and launched himself into the sky.

            "Dad!"  Trunks screamed as he neared the last full-blooded Saiyans, his voice clearly excited.  Something was amiss.

            "What is it boy?  I thought I told you not to disturb our training."  Vegeta stated sternly, ignoring the fact that technically he and Goku were no longer training.

            "You need to get to Goten's house.  Mom is on the phone for you.  She said it was urgent."  Trunks said all in a rush.  Vegeta rolled his eyes.  The boy had come all the way out here to tell him that?  The woman was probably calling to yell at them for not being home yet.  Dinner was probably getting cold.  Vegeta looked over at his companion and quirked an eyebrow when the other warrior just stared back at him blankly.

            "Well, are you going to use that damned instant transmission to get us back to your house or not?"  Vegeta demanded icily.  Once again, Goku laughed in embarrassment for not thinking of it sooner and nodded vigorously.  Grabbing Vegeta's shoulder, he focused on the sleeping Chi-chi and transported away.  Trunks and Goten looked at the spot where their fathers had been just a nanosecond ago.

            "He left us!"  Trunks exclaimed in disbelief.  Just as the words left his mouth, Goku reappeared in front of the boys, his hand behind his head.

            "Sorry boys!"  Goku apologized as he reached out to grab Goten's arm.  Trunks just barely grabbed onto Goten's t-shirt in enough time to be transported as well.  In the blink of an eye, the three were now standing in the kitchen of the Son home.  Trunks looked up at Goku with a slight frown.  The guy may be nice, but he was certainly a few cards short of a full deck.  Shaking his head at the thought of Goten's father, Trunks looked over to where his dad stood.  He stood next to the wall leading out to the living room, tethered to that particular wall by the short cord of the outdated phone the Son's used. 

            "Bulma, we just got done, so you will have to wait for us to get home," Vegeta said as soon as the receiver was pressed against his ear.

            "Well, hello to you to," Bulma said sarcastically, and slightly out of breath.  That gave Vegeta reason to pause; why would his mate be out of breath?  She shouldn't be doing anything that requires extreme physical exertion.

            "Out with it woman, you dragged me away from my training."

            "My water broke.  I'm going into labor."  Bulma stated simply, as though it didn't bother her in the least.  This was not what Vegeta had been expecting to hear.  At their last doctor appointment, the obstetrician had said that everything appeared normal and that they should be expecting their newest addition in about one month.  This little brat still had 28 days left!

            "You're WHAT?!"  Vegeta yelled into the phone in shock.  Now that the event was upon him, Vegeta had no idea what to do.

            "I said, my water broke and I am…"

            "I heard you the first time!"  Vegeta interrupted.  "We'll be right there."  Then, without waiting for a reply, Vegeta hung up the phone practically shattering the receiver with the force he used.  "Kakarrot, you have to teleport Trunks and me to Bulma right now!"  

            "Why?"  Goku asked in curiosity, not grasping the gravity of the situation.

            "Bulma is about to give birth," Vegeta snarled at the younger man.

            "To the baby?"

            "No, to a litter of kittens.  What do you think, you third-class loser?  Get me home now!"  Vegeta bellowed, effectively waking Chi-chi up from her nap on the couch in the other room.  Goku jumped in surprise at Vegeta's venomous outburst and then quickly grabbed Trunks under one arm, grabbed Vegeta with the other and teleported to Capsule Corp.  A few moments after, Chi-chi walked into the kitchen, only to find her youngest son standing in the center looking like he was about ready to bust with excitement..

            "What was all that racket, Goten?  Where is everyone?"  The raven-haired mother asked groggily.

            "Bulma's having kittens!"  Goten said enthusiastically.  "I sure hope she'll let me have one!"  The boy said dreamily, completely serious.  Chi-chi looked at her son strangely, not having a clue about what he was talking about.  She decided right then and there that she'd have to start monitoring the time the boy spent around her husband.  Goku's extreme naivety was apparently very contagious.  Or hereditary.  Chi-chi shuddered at that thought.  The Ox-princess then gave her son one last worried gaze before leaving the room to allow her son to hum merrily to himself.          

We all knew it had to happen sooner or later; Bra is about to be born!  Alas, this means the story is starting to draw to a close.  I figure about three more chapters and the story will be wrapped up.  **_However_**, if there is any interest, I am considering making a sequel dedicated to showing how Bra changes the everyday lives of everyone at Capsule Corp.  I think it would be fun to witness what happens in the Vegeta-Briefs home while raising the little princess.  More importantly, we all know there would be some very good Vegeta/Bra interactions!  Anyway, as I mentioned before, I'll only make the sequel if there is ample interest.  Anyway, about this chapter, let me know what you think!  As always, I love hearing from all of you!

Now, as I stated in my Bio (if anyone actually reads it), I would like to take this time to respond personally to a few of the reviews I have received recently.  I am hoping to respond to a few at the end of every chapter, but please don't be disappointed if I don't respond to your review in this chapter.  I am going to try and get everyone in at some point or another!  And no matter what, remember that I appreciate all of your feedback.  Everyone has been so supportive and generous in his or her reviews.  That being said, let's get down to the responses!

**butterflyV**:  First off, thanks so much for reviewing all the time!  Don't think it has gone unnoticed.  I know you were wondering if my last chapter was a combination of the two drafts I had been talking about.  The answer is no.  The chapter that I finally decided to post was totally different than the first draft I wrote.  In fact, I deleted the first draft entirely and decided to start from scratch.  Hence, why I had such a long update time.  And, in regards to your other comment, I agree full heartedly with your suggestion about Bra and her training.  I find it hard to believe that Bra does not train at all, considering whom her father is.  Granted, she may not be pushed as hard as Trunks was, but to assume she doesn't even know the basics about fighting is ridiculous.  If I write a sequel, you could bet your bottom dollar that Bra will be trained to some extent!

**trunksvegetafrodo**:  Only two words accompany your reviews; however, it makes my day to see that you have thought that every chapter I have written has been good enough for you to, "LOVE IT!"  Thanks for the support!

**Hel**:  I was so glad to hear from you!  I'm glad that you are still enjoying the story, and don't worry about not having time to review.  I know the feeling all too well!  I am glad that you think I am depicting such a realistic view of the Bulma, Vegeta, and Trunks' lives.  I have read so many stories where Bulma and Vegeta (Trunks too) are so predictable and false.  I've wanted to make them appear as living beings, not all that different from the rest of us in the way that they live.  It is nice to see someone understand what I am trying to accomplish with this story.  Thanks for all of your kind words through out this journey!

**VegetaGirlOne: **Sorry to hear about your computer!  I'm glad you are still reading the story, I was worried you had lost interest!  Thanks for the support, and get to work on your next chapter.  I can't wait to see what you write. 

**Loraliant Angelisa Snape:  **Although your name changed, I have certainly noticed your dedication in reviewing!  I am trying my best in updating as quick as humanly possible.  I'll try not to keep you waiting for the next one! ;)

**Colhan3000:**  As you can see from this chapter, Vegeta was not all that pleased about Bulma's choice for the baby's name.  Therefore, I believe your idea is right on track with mine.  Vegeta will get the choice for Bra's middle name.  I believe we all know what he will pick, don't we?

**kotetamer:  **Yet another loyal reviewer!  I'm glad you like how I am allowing Vegeta to be more forthcoming about his concern for Bulma.  Many people think I am making a little out of character; however, I like to think I am striking a good balance (call it my over-inflated ego!).  Thanks for your constant support!

**DBZ-fan-JESS:  **Another constant reviewer!  Thanks so much for always taking the time to review!  I appreciate the support.  I'm happy that someone is understanding about how I am trying to portray Vegeta.  I think the show did a pretty good job of showing his progression from a cold-hearted killer to family man, if that is really the right word for him!Therefore, I don't think I am taking any liberties with his character in showing his "caring" side.  I'm glad you feel the same way!  

**Briememory:  **I'm glad you liked my false labor plot twist.  I really was hoping to make Bulma's pregnancy seem real.  Thanks for the constant reviews.  I notice them every chapter!

**manga:  **Thanks for your vote of confidence!  I was glad to have someone tell me that they thought my rendition of Bulma's pregnancy was realistic.  I agree with your opinion that too many of the stories out there are rather cookie-cutter interpretations.  I likewise have no experience with pregnancy; therefore, I've put a lot of research into this project to make everything as authentic as possible.  Thanks for noticing! J

Ok, I think that is all I am going to do for this chapter.  It is getting incredibly huge!  Thanks again to everyone.  I hope you like the chapter.  I look forward to hearing from all of you!

Until Next Time… ****


	18. Preparations

You're What?! Chapter 18: Preparations 

            Bulma reached over to the stand that stood next to her hospital bed and grabbed the glass of water that sat there.  It had been about fifty minutes since Goku had transported Vegeta and her to the hospital.  Already she was clothed in her not so flattering hospital gown and was waiting in her birthing room, a rather homey looking room.  Instead of the usual stark white walls normally found in a hospital room, the walls surrounding the soon to be mother were a calming, warm beige.  An abstract border that looked like random brushstrokes of different colored paints ran around the room right where the wall and the ceiling meet.  Two high-backed, wooden chairs sat opposite the hospital bed, sandwiched in-between was a round table.  Each chair was cushioned with what appeared to be cranberry polyester.  A few plants were positioned in the room for extra coloring.  Taking a sip of the water, Bulma thought that somehow the room wouldn't seem so calming when she was in full-blown labor.  Despite its attempts to do otherwise, somehow the blue-haired beauty couldn't forget the fact that she was in a hospital about to give birth.  It was a nice attempt though.

            Bulma put her water down and leaned back on the elevated bed.  As of now, she was the only one in the room.  Her contractions were still rather far apart and she was only dilated about 4 centimeters, so she still had time.  She had kicked Vegeta out of the room about five minutes ago to go and meet her parents, who had just arrived at the hospital with Trunks.  In the frantic rush to get to the hospital, despite Bulma's assurance that there was no reason to hurry, Trunks was left behind to alert her parents.  They had just called Bulma's cell phone, which she had instructed Vegeta to grab before they left, and Vegeta was going down to meet them.

            "Oh fuck!"  Bulma exclaimed to the empty room as a contraction suddenly ripped through her frame.  She twisted her fists in the blanket covering the lower half of her body.  Trying desperately to remember her breathing, Bulma's whole body tensed as she rode out the pain.  Letting out a shuddering breath, Bulma's body relaxed bit by bit.  The mother to be unclenched her fists and repeatedly ran her hands over the blanket, smoothing it out.  "Wow, I forgot how much this sucked," Bulma stated dryly once the pain was over for the time being.  Bulma was once again reaching for her water when the door to her room opened and in walked her scrub-clad obstetrician, Dr. Chu.

            "Hello Bulma, how are you doing today, aside from being in labor?"  The young doctor asked with a smile, knowing first hand what the woman before her was going through.  She walked on over to the mother to be, looking at the files on her clipboard.  Bulma let out a small laugh at her OB's comment.

            "All things considered doctor, things are going quite well."  Bulma replied to the doctor that had seen her through Trunks birth and subsequent appointments through out the years.  The tall and lanky woman had taken over for Bulma's old obstetrician when he retired right before her pregnancy with Trunks.  Ever since that time, Bulma had put her trust in the black-haired woman.  Doctor Chu put her clipboard down on Bulma's bed and pulled a rolling stool on over to the foot of the bed.  Before sitting down, Dr. Chu pulled out the stirrups.

            "You know the drill Bulma.  I need you to put your feet in the stirrups so I can monitor your dilation."  Dr. Chu instructed.  Bulma pulled aside her blanket and immediately followed the doctor's orders.  Taking a seat in-between her legs, Dr. Chu performed a quick examination of the scientist's progress.  "Ok Bulma, you can get comfortable again.  You've dilated about another centimeter, maybe a little more."  The OB explained as she tucked the stool under the end of the bed, knowing that she would need to use it again soon.  "How are those contractions coming?  They still about five to seven minutes apart?"

            "I'd say they are definitely closer to five minutes apart now.  I'd actually just gotten through one right before you came in."  Bulma calmly informed.  Dr. Chu just nodded her head and promptly scribbled something down in the files she had retrieved from Bulma's bed.  Taking her eyes off of her files, the fellow mother intently studied Bulma.

            "Well, before I go, I just want to ask you one more time: are you sure you want to attempt a VBAC?"  The doctor asked seriously, eyeing the mother to be for any hesitation.

            "Yes," Bulma said immediately, not pausing at all, "I truly want to have a natural birth if I can.  Why is there a problem?  I thought you told me that, despite the severity of my false labor, I shouldn't have to worry about my actual delivery being as extreme.  Do you foresee a reason why I should not attempt a vaginal birth?"  Bulma asked suddenly worried, not liking the way the doctor was studying her.  Sensing her patient's uneasiness, the young doctor smiled reassuringly.

            "No Bulma.  I don't see any problems so far.  I just wanted to make sure that you were not having any second thoughts.  I know you've had a hard time carrying this little one and were worried about your ability to deliver her.  Also, as you know, it is not unheard of for there to be complications in a Vaginal Birth After Cesarean.  However, I don't think we will see any here.  In case anything should arise, I do have an operating room on reserve for a C-section if needed.  You know me; I like having all my bases covered."  Bulma nodded with a smile, knowing exactly what Dr. Chu was talking about.  It was the good doctor's attention to detail and need to be prepared for any situation that had cemented Bulma's loyalty.  "Well, I'm going to leave you alone then.  I passed some visitors on my way in.  I'll let them in when I leave.  For the time being you can have as many visitors as you'd like, but once it's go time I'm kicking them all out!"  The doctor said with a laugh and a wink.  "I figure you have anywhere from thirty minutes to a few hours before that baby decides to come out.  I'll be checking up on you periodically.  If anything should happen, such as a sudden increase in your contractions, don't be afraid to buzz."

            "You better believe I will doc.  Thanks for everything."  Bulma said as the doctor left the room.  Before the door had a chance to close, it flung back open and in strode her family.  Mrs. Briefs made a beeline for her daughter's bedside, her husband just a step behind her.  Trunks ran around his grandparents and went to stand next to his mother on the opposite side of her bed.  Vegeta gave a small grunt of annoyance and then walked completely past the bed to sit in one of the chairs situated on the far side of the room.  Plopping down in the chair, Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and sat brooding.  There was no way he was going to let anyone think he was the least bit concerned about this birth.  Mrs. Briefs grabbed her daughter's hand and smiled.

            "How are you feeling, honey?"  She asked, her voice laced with excitement.

            "I'm having a baby Mom, do you truly have to ask?"  Bulma retorted with a smirk.  That sarcastic reply had both her parents laughing.  It was good to see their daughter in such high spirits.  Dr. Briefs was about to make a comment when Trunks beat him to the punch.  

            "Mom, how are they going to get the baby out?"  Trunks inquired, his knowledge on the birthing process a woman goes though sorely lacking.  He knew all about how a baby was made, that had been easy to learn, especially when your father was as brutally honest with his answers to such questions as Vegeta was; however, Trunks never really thought about how the baby came out.  It was something he would never have to go through personally, hence, no need to ask about the details.  Now he was extremely curious.

            Bulma blinked at the question, her surprise evident.  Not sure of how she should approach the question, Bulma glanced over at her parents.  They both looked equally unsure of what to say.  How do you phrase something like childbirth to a child without getting graphic?  She knew Trunks wasn't innocent, he knew what sex was and the difference between men and women, but still, Bulma like to pretend her son was naïve to such things.

            "She'll push the brat on out."  Vegeta solved the problem by throwing in his two cents.  Trunks spun around to look at his father, slight confusion clouding his crystal blue eyes.

            "Push her out?"  Trunks repeated his father's explanation.  "From where?"

            "Don't say a word Vegeta!"  Bulma practically screeched when she saw Vegeta open his mouth.  She knew Vegeta was not exactly politically correct when giving explanations; in fact he was down right blunt.  Bulma didn't even want to know what his response to the boy was going to be.  

            "Why Bulma, you insult me," Vegeta replied with a wicked smirk.  "I was just going to tell the boy that the baby was going to be violently expelled from your…"

            "VEGETA!"  Bulma, Mrs. Briefs, and Dr. Briefs all exclaimed, effectively cutting Vegeta off and causing him to wince at the sudden explosion of sound resonating throughout the hospital room.  Quickly recovering, Vegeta smirked again and let out a low chuckle.  It was so easy to bait the woman and her entire family.  Humans and their modesty, it was downright hilarious.  Seeing her husband was done causing a ruckus, for now, Bulma turned her attention back to her little boy.  "Trunks, in response to your question, I'll be pushing the baby from here," Bulma responded by placing both of her hands on the blanket covering the junction between her legs.  Instead of understanding coming over the boy's face, his face seemed to become even more confused.

            "How is it going to fit?"  Trunks asked brusquely.  His eyebrows knitted together as he puzzled over this new information.  Just as he asked the question, another contraction began its assault on Bulma's body.  Tensing visibly, and letting out a low groan of pain, Bulma's free hand twisted in the blanket while the other squeezed her mother's hand unmercifully.  Trunks watched helplessly as he saw his mother battle with her pain.

            "Mom, are you ok?"  The lavender-haired boy asked, a slight quiver detected in his voice.  Bulma slowly moved her head to look at her son, her eyes a little wild.

            "I'm just peachy."  She hissed out between clenched teeth, causing Trunks to pull back visibly.  He hadn't expected his mother to snap at him.  After all, he was only making sure she was ok.  Moments after biting her son's head off, the pain subsided.  Relaxing again, Bulma took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  When she opened them she looked at her son.

            "I'm sorry baby.  I didn't mean to snap at you."  The blue-haired beauty said tiredly, the sincerity of her apology heard nevertheless.  She then smiled lightly at the worried boy.  "Does that answer your question though?  The baby doesn't exactly 'fit', she'll come out very painfully."

            "Oh."  Trunks replied solemnly, not liking the idea of his mother in pain.  "I'm sorry that you are hurting Mom."

            "Aw, sweetie," Bulma replied, her eyes tearing up at her son's concern.  "I'm fine.  I've done this all before.  Believe me, all this pain is worth it!  Thank you for your concern though."  She then held out her free hand, signaling for Trunks to hold it.  Not able to refuse his mother, Trunks scooted back toward the bed and took his mother's offered appendage.  Gently squeezing the small hand that was entwined in her own, Bulma turned her attention to her father.  "Daddy, I saw you look at your pocket watch when I had that last contraction.  I would greatly appreciate it if you could clock me for the time being.  I wasn't truly paying attention to what time it was when that one came on."

            "I'm sure I can handle the task of timing your contractions.  I know looking at a watch is not exactly first and foremost on your mind right now."  Dr. Briefs replied with a small laugh.

            "Thank you Dad."

            "So, what do we do now?"  Trunks asked, already fidgeting at his mother's side.  It was easy to forget that Trunks was still just a child, and as such there came the fact that he had the short attention span that children are notorious for showing.

            "Now we just wait for the baby," Mrs. Briefs answered happily.  Bulma nodded her assent.  Trunks' face immediately fell, that was not what he wanted to hear.

            "How long will that take?"  He practically whined, wishing that he had grabbed his Gameboy.  At least that would have given him something to do.

            "It depends on the baby.  Probably not for a while yet, honey."  Bulma responded, her voice conveying her understanding of the boy's situation.  Trunks took his hand from his mother and made his way over to the chair sitting opposite his father.       

            "Man, this sucks!"  The young boy stated in annoyance, flopping down in the chair unceremoniously.  Vegeta glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye and gave a grunt of agreement.  Heartened by the fact that his father shared his opinion of the situation, Trunks let out a small huff.  Then, placing his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, the soon-to-be big brother settled in for the wait ahead of him.  Noticing the dilemma her grandson was in, Mrs. Briefs gently took her hand back from Bulma and went over to her pride and joy.

            "I know this isn't terribly exciting right now, how about we run down to the cafeteria and get an ice cream cone or something?"  The blonde-haired woman asked the young boy, knowing full well that the best way to the boy's heart was through his stomach.  That caught Trunks' attention as his head snapped up to look at his grandmother before nodding his head vigorously.  Mrs. Briefs smiled warmly at the boy, glad that she was able to snap him out of his melancholy mood.  "Well, let's get going then.  I don't think the cafeteria will be open too much longer."  Trunks didn't need to be told twice.  With a quick goodbye shouted over his shoulder, the half Saiyan booked it on out the door, not even waiting for his grandmother.  "Ice cream works every time!"  Bulma's mother said with a laugh, her voice taking on its normal ditz-like quality.  "We'll be back in a little bit.  Stay strong Bulma."  With that being said, the bubbly blonde left in pursuit of the purple terror known as Trunks, and left the remaining occupants of the room to wait. 

            "If that doctor doesn't get in here in five seconds I swear I'll find some way to cause her bodily harm!"  Bulma wailed as her most recent contraction ripped through her frame.  It had been approximately an hour and a half since Trunks and Mrs. Briefs' excursion to get some ice cream.  While they were gone they had also stopped at the hospital gift shop to pick up some crossword puzzles and a Mad Libs book to help keep Trunks busy for the long night ahead.  The said boy was now residing in the waiting room of the maternity ward with his grandfather.  As Bulma's contractions started to become more and more regular, her language was becoming increasingly colorful.  Plus, everyone present, excluding Vegeta that is, thought it would be best if the boy were not around to witness his mother in pain.

            "Bulma dear, remember to breathe.  I'm sure the doctor is coming as fast as humanly possible."  Mrs. Briefs tried to reason while desperately trying to remove her hand from the death hold her daughter held her in.  Vegeta stood on the other side of the bed, his hand likewise held in a vise like grip; however, to the Saiyan Prince the pressure on his hand barely passed for unpleasant.  He stood stoic, watching the interaction between mother and daughter impassively.

            "I am breathing mother, hence why I am still alive!"  Bulma retorted sarcastically, her voice laced with pain.  Just as that quip was out of her mouth, Dr. Chu waltzed into the room a disarming smile on her face.  Years of dealing with women in labor had prepared the good doctor for the torrent of emotions that she would be faced with upon entering the room, especially the hostility many soon-to-be mothers expressed about being in their current situation.  Therefore, it was no surprise when Bulma practically jumped down her throat when she entered the room.

            "Finally!"  The mother-to-be shouted when she saw the doctor enter the room.  "Where have you been?"  Bulma demanded in a raised voice, not realizing that it had been less than two minutes since she rang the buzzer to her room requesting assistance.  To her, the time she had spent waiting felt like an eternity.  Dr. Chu studied the woman before her before answering.  It was clear that Bulma's contractions were very close together: perspiration was seen clearly on her forehead, a few beads running down her flushed face; her eyes held both determination and pain; and lastly, her breathing was slightly erratic as she tried to control the pain she was feeling.

            "I'm sorry Bulma," Dr. Chu began, not phased by the insistent question in the least.  Women in labor were not known for being polite.  "I got here as fast as I could.  My job would be so much easier if I could teleport."  The obstetrician joked as she came over to the foot of the bed, once again pulling out the stirrups.

            "I suppose I can forgive you on one condition: give me drugs and I'll call us even.  I know I said I wanted a completely natural birth, but I lied." Bulma replied with a half-hearted joke of her own, the pain of her latest contraction subsiding.  Without even being told, Bulma put her legs into the stirrups to get examined.  

            "I'll see what I can do Bulma.  How far apart are the contractions?"  Dr. Chu asked those present as she positioned herself between Bulma's legs.

            "They are about a minute, minute and a half apart," Vegeta finally spoke, knowing full well that Bulma was not keeping specific track.  Dr. Chu gave a nod at this information as she continued her examination of Bulma's progress.

            "I thought as much," the doctor replied while standing up.  She then looked down at her patient.  "I hate to tell you this Bulma, but it's a little too late for those drugs.  You are just about 10 centimeters dilated."

            "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"  Bulma whined, another contraction coming on.  Once again, she squeezed the two hands caught in her grasp.  She looked up at the doctor, her face twisting into a contorted mixture of pain and anger.  It was definitely one of those times that if looks could kill Dr. Chu would no longer be among the living.

            "I'm sorry again Bulma, but there is nothing I can do."  The fellow mother stated sympathetically.  She knew first hand the joys of delivering a baby without the aid of medication.  "I am going to go get sterilized.  I'll have to ask you to leave Mrs. Briefs."  The doctor addressed the blonde-haired woman.  She distractedly nodded her head for most of her attention was in trying to remove her hand once again from her daughter's.  "As for you Vegeta, you can follow me and we'll get you all suited up."

            "Suited up?"  Vegeta questioned, totally confused as to what the doctor was trying to tell him.  He'd never seen a doctor in scrubs before today and wasn't aware of the fact that he was going to be required to wear similar gear if he wanted to witness the birth of his daughter.

            "Don't ask questions you miserable monkey!  Just do as you are told, and if you don't I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to you on a silver platter!"  Bulma screamed at her husband, her pain at its peak.  Vegeta's eyes widened in shock momentarily before his face clouded over in rage.

            "What the fuck is your problem?"  Vegeta inquired angrily.

            "Oh I don't know, what could possibly be my problem?  Perhaps the fact that I am about to squeeze something the size of a watermelon through a hole the size of a lemon!"  Bulma retorted, her voice going somewhat shrill.  Vegeta looked like he was about to reply when Doctor Chu decided to step in.

            "Ok you two, you'll have enough time to scream at each other later.  Right now we have to get everything prepped for this delivery.  If you'll follow me Vegeta and Mrs. Briefs, we can get the ball rolling so to speak.  We'll be back shortly Bulma."  With that, Dr. Chu led the two family members out of the room.  Mrs. Briefs wished Vegeta good luck before heading off towards the waiting room and asked to be informed the minute that baby was born.  With her gone, the doctor and Saiyan left to go get their scrubs. 

 "About your wife Vegeta," Dr. Chu began conversationally while escorting Vegeta to the supply room, "I know this is your first time witnessing a birth and being around a pregnant woman.  You have to know that how Bulma is reacting is absolutely normal.  She is in an unbelievable amount of pain and is going to lash out at anyone she feels is to blame, namely you.  You just have to understand that it is just an outlet and she doesn't truly mean anything she may say to you.  Most importantly, no matter how tempting it may be, you cannot argue with her or get upset at her verbal jabs.  She just needs your support."  When it looked like Vegeta was going to object, Dr. Chu continued on.  "You can yell at her all you want once she recovers from the birth."  The doctor said with a small smirk.  Vegeta gave a small smirk of his own.  Damn right he wasn't going to stand for being degraded by his wife.  He would take the doctor's advice into consideration, but he wouldn't guarantee anything.  Childbirth or not, his wife had not right to degrade him verbally.  She should just feel privileged that he was even there!  Heaven help him if Bulma, or any other woman, found out about his thoughts.

"Well, here we are," the doctor announced as they entered a small rectangular and sterile room.  Arranged on various shelves were various supplies and scrubs for the doctors.  She handed Vegeta a set of the generic, light sea green hospital scrubs, complete with surgical cap and shoe covers.  Vegeta looked down at the unattractive clothing laying across his arms in barely concealed disgust.  Dr. Chu, her back turned to Vegeta was putting on her surgical cap, careful to make sure all of her hair was covered.  She then went over to one of the many sinks lining the far wall and started to vigorously wash her hands.  While drying her hands she turned around and saw Vegeta, who was still staring at the scrubs in his hands.  Dr. Chu couldn't help but chuckle.

"Vegeta, you have to put those on over your clothes and put the cap on to cover your hair."  She instructed while tying a surgical mast around her neck, letting it rest on her chest for the moment.  Vegeta shot a glare at the doctor.

"And if I refuse?"  Vegeta asked coolly, totally opposed to wearing something that looked completely silly in his eyes.

"Then I can't allow you in the delivery room," Dr. Chu responded matter of factly.  "It's hospital regulation.  Besides, it is for the safety of Bulma and the baby."

"This is ridiculous!"  Vegeta exclaimed.  He was about to protest and state the fact that there was little they could do to stop him from being in his mate's delivery room; however, he knew he didn't want to draw unwanted attention to himself.  Plus, he knew Bulma would be pissed, and knowing her, should would find some way to make good on the threat she had issued just minutes ago.  Letting out a low growl of defeat, Vegeta placed the scrubs on the counter and picked up the hat.  "Fine.  I'll wear the stupid things," he grumbled as he fought to get the wild flame of his hair under the surgical cap, too bad for him the cap was winning.  After fumbling for a few more moments, Vegeta glared over at the doctor in exasperation, the cap resting at the peak of his hair.  "This is impossible.  There is no way this cap is going over my hair."

Dr. Chu bit her lip in an attempt to hide the smile that was threatening to spread across her face.  Somehow, the pissed off man before her looked very endearing standing there with his arms planted firmly across his chest, a deep frown gracing his face, and a puffy surgical cap hanging off the point of his hair.  "Well, let me ask you a question.  How does your hair stand up against water?  Perhaps if we wet it down and then pull it back in a ponytail we can then tuck it into the cap."  Vegeta gave the doctor a look that practically screamed, "Are you nuts?"  His frown deepened, if that was possible, and his left eye twitched in barely controlled rage or annoyance, Dr. Chu couldn't tell. 

"I suppose that would work."  Vegeta finally relented, his voice tight.  The doctor nodded and promptly grabbed a couple of rubber bands out of one of the drawers in the room.  Vegeta grabbed the cap off his tall, ebony hair and looked at the doctor incredulously.  When the doctor did not take the hint, the Saiyan Price finally snapped.  "I do not require supervision.  You go on ahead and care for my wife.  I'm sure I can make it back to the room myself."  

"If you say so.  Just let a nurse at the desk know when you are done so they can clean up after you."  Dr. Chu instructed, her voice finally showing some signs of irritation.

"Woman, would you just leave already?"  Vegeta asked rhetorically, his patience finally worn out.  The black-haired obstetrician face gave way to a slight scowl at the prince's rudeness.  She slapped the rubber bands in her hand down on the countertop running the length of the one wall.  Sending a glare of her own to the disgruntled father-to-be, Dr. Chu turned on her heel and left the room without saying another word.  Vegeta let out a deep sigh once the doctor was gone.  Throwing the cap back down on the counter, Vegeta went to the door of the room and shut it in order to keep any wondering eyes from witnessing this mockery.

"Stupid earthlings and their retarded customs."  The Saiyan Prince mumbled as he started over to the sinks.  He truly didn't understand the purpose of the flimsy clothes he was supposed to wear over his own garments.  It seemed to him that babies were born outside of hospitals all the time and none of them seemed to die just because the people there at the time of the delivery weren't wearing stupid, hideous scrubs, or whatever the humans called these damn things.  Not for the first time since coming to Earth, Vegeta let out a low growl and looked upwards towards the heavens.  The things he did for his woman.

Vegeta grabbed two of the heavy-duty rubber bands the doctor had left for him and turned towards the wall of sinks.  Turning on one of the faucets, Vegeta dipped his head under the faucet and worked at literally soaking his head.  Only after his hair was thoroughly drenched did Vegeta turn off the faucet.  Flipping his head back, the Saiyan Prince set a spray of water flying all over the room.  His hair slapped across his back and stuck.  Not truly caring if he was making a mess, Vegeta promptly wrung out some of the excess water all over the floor.  He then gathered his hair up at the base of his neck and wrapped the rubber band around his thick mass of hair.  Knowing his hair was going to fight with all its might against the constraints of the rubber band, Vegeta wrapped the second band around his impromptu ponytail.  Walking back to the countertop where his scrubs awaited him, Vegeta grabbed the cap again.  Already, short spikes of hair were shooting up around his head; however, they were still short enough to be contained under the cap.

Finally, with the cap securely placed on his head and all his hair completely concealed, Vegeta quickly put on the rest of the scrubs.  As he grabbed the shoe covers, Vegeta saw looked down at the repulsive light greenish color adorning his body and he shuddered.  Who designed these things?  Couldn't they at least attempt to be someone pleasing to the eye?  _Too bad the person who invented this ridiculous clothing is  probably dead_, Vegeta thought bitterly, _because then I can't kill him._.  

The proud Saiyan Prince slipped on the paper light shoe covers over his training boots and stood up.  The deed was done.  All Vegeta could say was that Bulma better be happy.  Here he was, the prince of the Saiyan race, dressed up as some puffy sea cucumber.  Not even considering to tell a nurse he was done in the now water logged room, Vegeta left to head on back to his mate's side.  As he walked through the halls to Bulma's room, Vegeta officially decided that the entire human race was completely insane and that their insanity was wearing off on him.  Luckily, no one was around to see his embarrassment.  

As he came to the closed door of his wife's room, Vegeta paused.  This was it, the moment they had been waiting for.  It was now only a matter of time before he would be the father to a beautiful baby girl.  Now that it was a reality, Vegeta realized he was slightly nervous.  He wasn't going to be a "father" or "dad", as Trunks referred to him; he was going to be someone's "daddy" or "papa".  It was a scary notion to someone like Vegeta.  However, before he could dwell on those thoughts any longer, Bulma's muffled voice could be heard through the door.

"Where is that son of a bitch?  I swear to Dende that I'm going to rip his head off for doing this to me!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes and let out a low growl.  This whole experience was going to be interesting to say the least.  Grabbing the door handle, Vegeta braced himself for the assault his ears were going to have to endure.

"I hate you Vegeta!  Do you hear me?  I hate you for doing this to me!"  Yet another muffled cry managed to make its way through the door.

"What have I gotten myself into?"  Vegeta asked himself as he opened the door and entered the wonderful world of childbirth.

Hello Everyone!  I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas (or any other holiday that you may have celebrated) and New Years!  I'm sorry about the lack of an update recently.  Things got really hectic during the holidays; I'm sure all of you can relate to that problem.  Anyway, to make matters worse, I got to tango with the flu as well.  That had me running to the bathroom every five minutes for about three days and then had me restricted to bed for another three after that.  It was wonderful (that's sarcasm at its fullest, in case anyone couldn't tell.)  I tried writing while I was sick, but it just wasn't happening.  Between me groaning in pain and sleeping, I just couldn't get into a writing grove.  Anyway, I can guarantee that the next chapter won't take nearly as long to come out!  I give everyone my word. J

In order to get this chapter up as quickly as possible, I am not going to respond to anyone's reviews at this time.  I'm hoping to get those started tomorrow and post them onto my bio by the end of this week.  Then, I will probably repost this chapter with the inclusion of my responses.  So, please don't think I am being lazy and just abandoning my resolution to mention reviewers at the end of every chapter.  I just thought that by doing things this way, everyone can get to read the next chapter and then check back to see if I responded to your review from the last chapter.  I'm sorry if this is a bother to anyone.

On a final note, thanks to all of my faithful readers and reviewers!  With the completion of this chapter I will have over 400 reviews!  I would have never thought this story would become so popular!  I'm delighted so many of you are enjoying the story.  It truly makes my day to hear back from each and every one of you!  All of you are the reason that I have continued with the telling of this tale.  Therefore, I wanted to make it official, since I received so much feedback, that I will definitely be making a sequel to this story.  As I mentioned before, there will be two more chapters to You're What?! before it's complete.  After that, keep your eyes peeled for the yet-to-be named sequel.  If anyone as any ideas for a title, I would greatly appreciate the help!  On that note, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter!

Until Next Time…  


	19. Three Little Words

You're What?! Chapter 19: Three Little Words

            Vegeta looked down at his mate, a slight frown gracing his features.  Bulma had lifted her upper body off the bed slightly in both pain and the effort of pushing, her only support being the stoic Saiyan next to her.  To any outsider, the father-to-be looked rather uncaring about his wife's situation and the fact that he was about to have a daughter in his life.  However, to anyone who knew Vegeta as extensively as Bulma did, the prince's nervousness and concern was evident in his inky black eyes.  The scrub clad Saiyan stood next to his wife, holding her hand throughout her ordeal.  Impervious to the pain his mate was inflicting upon him as each contraction tore through her body, Vegeta was actually surprised to see faint trails of blood running down his forearm.  Bulma had taken to embedding the nails of her free hand into Vegeta's arm as each contraction came on.  Her other hand squeezed her husband's for all she was worth.  

            Without warning, Bulma flopped back down onto the bed, breathing heavily and moaning slightly.  Vegeta hesitantly reached out and brushed some of her sweat-dampened hair from her face.  At his touch, Bulma looked up at her husband and tried to give a weak smile, but it didn't quite work.  After seven hours in labor, the struggling mother didn't have the power to put forth the energy to smile.  Seeing how tired she was getting, Vegeta's eyes narrowed slightly showing his dislike of this situation.  How much longer could it possibly take for this blasted brat to come out?  Instantly recognizing her mate's change in demeanor, Bulma finally managed to smile.

            "I'm glad you are here Vegeta," she whispered breathlessly in an attempt to calm her husband.  The Saiyan Prince continued to scrutinize his mate and realized the front she was putting up.  She didn't want him to be worried.  Vegeta couldn't help the small smirk of pride that appeared on his face.  Despite her almost total lack of physical strength, no one could ever call his mate weak.  His woman would get through this.  She may be tired, and she may be in pain, but all of that would be forgotten once the little one finally decided to enter the world.

            "Me too," the prince mouthed so quickly that Bulma almost didn't catch it for he did not wanting anyone else in the room to hear him admit to caring.  Admiration flashed through Bulma's eyes before being clouded over with pain as another contraction assaulted her.  Once again, Vegeta became the unwavering rock for his wife to lean on, the frown resuming its place on his façade.

            "All right Bulma, I can see the head.  Give me all that you've got."  Dr. Chu instructed from her spot between Bulma's legs.  Letting out a loud, guttural, groaning scream of both pain and determination, Bulma bore down and pushed with the pain of her contraction.  It was at points like this that the mother-to-be forgot her breathing and instead focused on voicing the pain she was in.  Without the aid of medication, the pain seemed unbearable at times.  Bulma let out a choked sob as she fell back onto the bed once again.  "Ok Bulma, we have the head.  You are almost there, just a little bit more and you can rest to your heart's content."  The female doctor informed the exhausted woman before her, trying her hardest to keep her spirits up.  Another sob escaped from the scientist's throat.

            "I can't," she stated hoarsely, shaking her head almost deliriously from side to side.  "I can't do this.  It hurts too much.  I can't."  She rambled between heaving breaths.

            "I cannot believe what I am hearing," Vegeta stated harshly before Dr. Chu could say any more on the matter.  Lightly grasping Bulma's chin in his hand he turned her head towards him, forcing her to look at him.  "You cannot honestly tell me that you are giving up when you are so close.  How pathetically weak can you be?"  

            "Weak?"  Bulma exclaimed in disbelief at hearing those words spew from her husband's mouth after she had lain here for seven hours toiling to bring this child into the world.  "How dare you call me weak, you ungrateful, arrogant bastard!  I am struggling to bring _our_ daughter into the world, dealing with pain you can't even imagine, and you have the gall to call me weak?"  She snapped, showing more life than she had in the past couple of hours.  When Vegeta had first walked into the delivery room to witness his daughter's birth, Bulma had been like a demon possessed.  She was ranting and raving constantly through her contractions.  Mostly she was shouting obscenities at her husband, trying in any way to inflict as much pain as she could on him.  The father-to-be had lost count of how many times Bulma had screamed that she hated him for doing this to her or that she was never going to allow him to touch her ever again.  Slowly, as the labor progressed and Bulma's energy waned, her venomous words decreased until they disappeared all together.  Vegeta smirked at the response she had just given him.

            "Now that sounds like the woman I made my mate."  Vegeta replied, pleased to see that his wife still had some fight left in her.  "I know it is hard Bulma, but if anyone can do this it is you.  You don't know how to fail."  The Saiyan Prince said softly, staring intently into his wife's eyes, letting her know she had his support.  Bulma likewise held her husband's gaze, heartened by his faith in her ability to get through this.  The blue-haired beauty gave a slight nod as way of showing that she wouldn't give up.  

            Before she could say anything else to her husband, another scream erupted from Bulma, her next contraction upon her.  The laboring genius gritted her teeth and groaned as she pushed with all of her might, her eyes tightly shut.  Finally, the low growl that was emanating from her throat burst forth as yet another shriek of pain as she felt the push of the baby's shoulders against her vaginal walls, stretching and straining against the small opening.

            "Come on Bulma, you're almost there."  Dr. Chu encouraged her patient.  With the last of her strength left, Bulma made one more push.  A horrendous pain ripped through the scientist, almost like she was being ripped in two.  Then, miraculously, the pain subsided to a dull ache as the baby slid on out after the breach of its shoulders.  Dr. Chu gave a triumphant smile from behind her surgical mask as she held the small baby in her arms.  Having delivered Trunks, Dr. Chu was not surprised to see the slick tail thrashing behind the baby, sending fluids splattering around the direct area.  Immediately the stationed nurse, despite her shock at seeing an extra appendage on the newborn, came over with the supplies to cut the umbilical cord and extract the fetal fluid from the baby's lungs and mouth.  Bulma fell back on the bed, tears coursing down her flushed face.  A cry of joy escaped from the proud mother when she heard the resounding wail of her newborn daughter.  

            Vegeta watched on in awe.  He had never seen a baby born before, and although he had been surrounded by blood and gore for the greater part of his life, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of his own offspring covered in blood, amniotic fluid, and who knew what else.  The wailing babe that was being suspended in the air was both beautiful and disgusting all at the same time.  The doctor and nurse began the gentle cleaning of the baby, knowing they had a little bit of time before Bulma would expel her placenta.  Having the baby cleaned up enough for her to finally see her parents, Dr. Chu walked on over to Bulma and placed the small bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket into her arms.

            Bulma, despite the tears running down her face, smiled brilliantly at the screaming baby in her arms.  She then looked up at Vegeta.  "We have a daughter."  She stated; her voice choked with emotion.  She then looked down again at the small life in her arms, pleased that she appeared to be settling down quite considerably.  "Hello Bra.  I'm your mommy.  Yes I am."  She spoke to the uncomprehending child, like most mothers do right after birth.  Bulma then trailed her fingers down the slightly swollen cheek of her baby girl's face before coming to her daughter's small hand and placing it within her own.  It was utterly breathtaking at how small, yet perfect, this little being was.  Vegeta looked down at his mate and offspring, his face not looking quite as harsh as it normally does.  Seeing the little girl squirming about in her mother's arms, trying to get adjusted to its foreign surroundings, Vegeta felt a fierce protectiveness well up inside him.  He had a princess.  If the blue fuzz adorning her head was any indication, she was going to take after her mother and be just as beautiful.  Vegeta could almost sense the trouble that was going to cause in the years to come.

            Bulma looked up once again at her husband, a wave of dizziness and fatigue crashing over her.  She caught the almost serene look on Vegeta's face and couldn't help but smile weakly.  The smile quickly faded as she closed her eyes, another wave of exhaustion hitting her.  If it weren't for the fact that she had just given birth, Bulma would have been concerned at how quickly she seemed to be losing energy.  It was almost like she could feel it all just slipping away.  Deciding that she didn't want to pass out with the baby in her arms she glanced at Vegeta.

            "Vegeta, why don't you take your daughter and say hello?  I'm feeling kind of tired, believe it or not."  Bulma requested from her husband, her voice rather hushed but expressing her fatigue clearly.  Vegeta tensed for a moment, not all that thrilled with the idea of holding the newborn.  He had hardly ever held Trunks, and when he first had, the boy had been going on a year old.  He had been nowhere near as small and frail as the little bundle being transferred into his arms.  As the baby passed from mother to father, Dr. Chu began the removal of the placenta, asking Bulma for one final push.

            Vegeta held his daughter in rather stiff arms, looking like he was holding a package of live explosives that would go off at the slightest movement.  He relaxed slightly as the girl's tail unfurled from the blanket and latched onto his wrist.  Looking at the reminder of his heritage, Vegeta had to remember that, despite her size, this girl was a Saiyan Princess and she was strong.  Bulma watched her mate handle their child through half closed eyes.  Despite the fact that anyone with eyes could tell that Vegeta was uncomfortable in actually holding the small infant, Bulma had never seen him look so at peace.

            "Vegeta, I love you."  Bulma whispered as her eyes closed, suddenly feeling the need to express her feelings for her mate.  Vegeta tore his eyes away from the newest member of their family and looked at his mate; however, she was already unconscious.

            "No!" Dr. Chu suddenly exclaimed from her position back in between Bulma's legs.  Vegeta's attention immediately snapped toward the doctor who by now was snapping out orders to the nurse next to her.  Suddenly the metallic sent of blood assailed Vegeta's senses and he saw the doctor stand up, her hands and front of her scrubs covered in blood: his mate's blood.  The nurse had already vacated the room to do what ever she had been told to do.  

            "What is wrong with my mate?"  Vegeta demanded, his voice holding the barest hint of worry.  Dr. Chu continued monitoring the vitals of her patient and addressed Vegeta.

            "It's a uterine rupture.  The scar tissue from your wife's previous C-section located on the inside of her uterus tore during the delivery of your daughter.  The placenta was holding back most of the blood your wife was losing.  It explains why she was getting so weak, especially towards the end of the birth.  She was effectively bleeding to death."  The doctor explained as the nurse and a crew of hospital staff entered the room, a stretcher being brought in next to Bulma's birthing bed so that she could be transferred to surgery.  As the orderlies and nurses transferred Bulma from the bed to the mobile stretcher, Vegeta grabbed the doctor's wrist, shifting Bra into the crook of his one arm, loosing his fear of holding the child in his current state of agitation.

            "What are you trying to say?"  Vegeta asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.  An icy numbness was quickly overtaking his senses at what the doctor was implying.  "Is she dying?"

            "If we don't stop the bleeding, yes, she could die."  Dr. Chu stated bluntly, knowing that she didn't have the time to stand there and discuss the complications his wife was having.  Vegeta's face remained perfectly schooled on the outside, not letting anyone see the shock he felt at hearing someone admit that his mate could die.  Looking over the doctor's shoulder, he saw Bulma being wheeled on out of the room.  "Vegeta, Nurse Stanton will take Bra from you to get her settled into the nursery, since Bulma won't be staying here to watch over her.  I'll inform you of your wife's condition once we get the bleeding under control."  Dr. Chu instructed, her voice strictly professional.  Right on cue, the aforementioned nurse stepped forward and began lifting the once again wailing infant from her father's hold.    

            Vegeta blinked in surprise as he felt the slight weight of his daughter lifted from his arms and was astonished to find that he hadn't even realized he was still holding the infant.  He had been totally focused on his pale and lifeless looking mate.  Not protesting at his daughter being taken away for the time being, Vegeta started to follow the doctor out of the room.

            "I'm coming with you," Vegeta stated firmly as he came up along side the briskly walking doctor.  The black-haired doctor glanced at the new father in surprise, not expecting him to be following her.  Not stopping her rapid pace to the surgery room that Bulma had been transferred to, Dr. Chu addressed the determined prince.

            "Vegeta, I cannot allow you into the surgery room.  You would only get in the way," the doctor explained, her voice not sounding quite as icy as it had just moments before.  Coming to the mechanical doors that would allow her access to the restricted area of surgery, she abruptly stopped and looked down at the man next to her.  "I know you are concerned and don't want to leave your wife's side, but if you truly want Bulma to recover you have to let me get in there and stabilize her."  Seeing that the stubborn, scrub-clad husband was going to argue, Dr. Chu let her professionalism slip, knowing it was the only way she could possibly get through to Vegeta.  "Don't argue with me, the time I waste out here with you are precious seconds I could be spending in there," she stated pointing at the closed doors, "saving your wife's life!"

            Vegeta looked at the impassioned doctor before him and suddenly realized; this was a fight he should not be having for time was wasting away.  Although he didn't like it, he knew the doctor was right.  Uncrossing his arms and letting them fall from his chest, Vegeta let out a low, defeated growl.  "Go.  Tend to my wife.  But be warned woman, if you let any harm come to her, you will wish that you had never been born."  The Saiyan Prince threatened, his voice a low hiss.  Then, before anything else could be said and anymore time was wasted; Vegeta turned on his heel and started on back towards the waiting room.

            Dr. Briefs walked down the long corridor leading to the nursery with Trunks following close behind.  Mrs. Briefs, having already come to see the baby and visit the prince that was keeping a vigil over his newest child, was in the waiting room conversing with the Son family, which had arrived at the hospital to see the baby and give their best wishes to the parents.  They had not expected to come into such a bittersweet environment where the baby was healthy and Bulma was in serious condition.  Turning a corner, the two Briefs men saw Vegeta standing before a huge window staring at his daughter.  As usual, his face was unreadable: however, aside from that, his whole posture seemed weary.  He was not standing as straight and proud as he normally did.  His arms were crossed over his still scrub-covered chest, being as that position was the most natural for the Saiyan. 

            Dr. Briefs came to stand next to the man that he had come to know as a son.  Despite the rocky relationship Vegeta had with the entire Briefs family when he first came to live on Earth, the old scientist was honored that he was on of the few that had gotten to see Vegeta change over the years.  Granted, the boy was still rough around the edges, but he had proven his worth during his residence on Earth, and it was of the highest quality.  You just had to know where to look.  Glancing into the room filled with sleeping and wailing infants alike, the second time grandfather immediately spotted his slumbering granddaughter.

            "She looks exactly like Bulma did when she was born."  Dr. Briefs whispered, more to himself than anyone else.  For the first time, Vegeta glanced at the aging man next to him.

            "Your wife said the exact same thing when she first saw her."  Vegeta stated simply, his voice devoid of all emotion.  Trunks, not quite being able to see through the glass while standing on the ground, looked around to see if anyone was coming and then levitated up to look into the nursery, satisfied that no outsider would see him.  It was not hard to figure out which one was his sister.  Even if she didn't have a brown, furry appendage draped across her chest, Trunks would have been able to tell by the fuzzy blue head.

            "She's so small," the big brother announced in awe.  He had never seen a newborn infant and was surprised by how vulnerable she appeared to be.  

            "She's beautiful Vegeta, you must be proud."  Dr. Briefs said to his son-in-law, knowing how hollow such congratulations were at the moment but feeling the need to express them nonetheless.  The stoic prince gave a slight nod as he looked at his little princess.  Trunks, after hearing his grandpa's declaration, studied his little sister intently.

            "She is kind of cute," Trunks admitted reluctantly.  He then paused, as though not sure whether he should say what else was on his mind.  Finally, he just decided to blurt it out.  "Is mom dying?  Is that why no one will tell me anything?"  At hearing his son's panicked voice, Vegeta fully tore his eyes away from his daughter.

            "You're mother is not going to die."  Vegeta said with conviction, almost as though convincing himself more than his heir.  Unconsciously, he ran a hand through his now uncontained hair as his whole body tensed in agitation.  "Don't talk like that." He snapped at the boy, hoping to end his foolish questions to no avail.

            "Then what is wrong with her?  Why can't we go and see her yet?"  Trunks persisted, his voice rising in volume.  Dr. Briefs put a hand on the boy's shoulder in an attempt to placate the boy.

            "Settle down my boy, everything is going to be just fine," Dr. Briefs answered for Vegeta, knowing that the prince was barely handling his own emotions, let alone having to deal with Trunks'.  Ruffling the boy's hair, Dr. Briefs allowed Vegeta a moment to calm down.  Although it didn't appear like it from his outward expression, the old scientist knew that Vegeta was rattled for he was still just learning how to handle his own emotions.  "Have you heard anything new on Bulma's condition, Vegeta?"  Bulma's father inquired once he saw Vegeta start to relax once again.  The warrior gave a curt nod.

            "That woman doctor came by here about ten minutes ago.  She said that she was able to staunch most of the bleeding; however, she figured the only way to completely stop the flow of blood was perform a hysterectomy.  She said that she needed my permission to perform the surgery since Bulma was unconscious.  Of course I said yes, considering that it meant the difference between life and death."  Vegeta informed his two family members in as calm a manner as the new father could manage.

            "Not to sound condescending Vegeta, but do you even know what a hysterectomy is?"  Dr. Briefs asked in curiosity, not liking the idea that Vegeta had agreed to an operation without even knowing the consequences.  Granted, in the current situation, Bulma's father would have likewise agreed for the operation; however, it was not comforting to think that Vegeta would have agreed to a lobotomy if he had been asked.

            "Now I do," Vegeta answered in a low voice, clearly insulted by the doctor's underlying question.  "I wasn't going to let those doctors hack into my mate without knowing what they wanted to remove.  Under the circumstances, I think this operation will be for the best.  Bulma will not be having any more children.  I won't have her compromising her health.  This surgery will make certain this never happens again."

            "So, Mom will be ok once she gets this hysterectomy done?"  Trunks asked hopefully, stumbling slightly over the pronunciation of hysterectomy.  He hadn't caught onto the slight tiff that had occurred between his dad and grandpa.  All he focused on was the fact that his mother may be fine once she had this aforementioned surgery.  That was the only thing that mattered to Trunks.

            "Of course she will!"  Dr. Briefs replied with certainty, trying his best to lift the spirits of the father/son duo he was sandwiched between.  "You should know your mother well enough by now, my boy.  She is a strong woman.  A little loss of blood is not going to stop my baby girl after all the things she has been through in her life."  The proud father stated with more confidence than he felt.  But, if he believed in anything it was that positive thinking always pays off in the end.  If you expect the worst in life than that is what you will get.  Hence, the good old doctor was going to keep an optimistic view on his daughter's recovery.  Trunks smiled up at his grandfather, feeling much more at ease than he had for the past hour since his father had come busting into the waiting room, the messenger of bad tidings.

            "Thanks gramps, I feel much better now."  The lavender-haired troublemaker announced.

            "I'm glad."  Dr. Briefs replied with a kindly smile.  He then patted the boy on the head.  "How about you go on back to the waiting room and spend some time with Goten.  And remember, keep thinking good thoughts of your mother."  Nodding vigorously, Trunks turned to leave before suddenly he stopping and performing an about-face.  Marching up to his father, Trunks stood directly beside him.  Curious as to why the boy was suddenly at his side, Vegeta once again took his eyes off his daughter and looked at his firstborn.  

            "What?"  He asked without his usual harshness, yet, his eyes were icy.  Trunks fidgeted, always a little unsure of how to act around his father in emotional manners. 

            "I, um, just wanted to say that what grandpa said is true.  Mom will be all right.  I can feel it."  Trunks started.  Vegeta looked down at his heir expectantly; surely this wasn't all that Trunks wanted to tell him.  Shuffling his feet nervously, the boy continued.  "It's just that you always look at things so negatively.  I guess I am worried that you are sad, and I don't want you to be."  Trunks finished rather softly, looking down at his feet and awaiting for his dad to either a.) insult him for being weak or b.) to get angry for implying he was weak.  However, the insult and anger never came.  Hesitantly looking up at his father, Trunks saw his dad staring down at him impassively.

            "I'm fine boy," Vegeta snapped out while dragging his gaze away from his son, effectively ending the conversation.  Trunks nodded sadly and turned to leave.  Watching out of the corner of his eye as his dejected son start walking down the hall, Vegeta felt a slight twinge in his chest.  The boy was just trying to be reassuring, to ease his pain.  Was it really such a crime that his son cared about what happened to him.  "Trunks," the Saiyan Prince called after the retreating boy, halting his progress.  Once the young prince turned back around, Vegeta favored the boy with a small smirk.  "I appreciate your concern."  Trunks smiled broadly at his father's comment, surprised to hear such gratitude.

            "Anytime," Trunks replied and then turned the corner, trotting on back to the waiting room.  Dr. Briefs smiled at the little father/son moment he had been privy to.

            "Well, I think that is my cue to leave as well," the aging scientist said with a sigh.  Vegeta gave a small grunt as an answer.  Before leaving the brooding prince, the doctor placed a hand on Vegeta's shoulder.  "Let us know the moment you hear anything about my baby girl's condition.  If you need anything let us know."  Vegeta gave a slight nod.

            "As soon as I know something, I'll be sure to tell the rest of you."  Vegeta spoke evenly, his posture back to its normal regal attention.

            "Thanks Vegeta."  Dropping his hand from his shoulder, Dr. Briefs took one more look at his granddaughter.  "I know how hard it is to get rid of that little voice in the back of your head that keeps demanding, 'what are you going to do if she is not ok?'"  The Saiyan Prince's father-in-law spoke up suddenly; deciding now was the best time to give the man before him some advice.  "You just have to get past that nagging doubt and ask yourself instead; what am I going to do when she _is_ ok."  And, with that finally said, Dr. Briefs took his leave of his son-in-law.

            Vegeta watched the retreating back of Bulma's father as he turned the corner and out of view.  Although he would never admit it, the old man's words were somewhat helpful.  For the past hour, after alerting everyone to Bulma's condition, Vegeta had been watching his slumbering princess.  Seeing the small babe sleep was slightly calming and helped keep the monarch's thoughts from focusing too much on his mate.  After the short interlude he had just had with his son and father-in-law, Vegeta realized that indeed his thoughts on his wife's chances of survival had been rather dismal.  He had never tried convincing himself that she was going to be ok, he just keep on wondering what he would do without her.    

            During the past hour, which seemed to be the longest of his life, Vegeta focused on one frightening thought: if his mate were to pass away it would be forever.  There was no chance of revival since her death would have been from the natural cause of birth complications and thus, the dragonballs would not work in bringing her back to life.  If that were to happen, he would never get to see Bulma alive again…ever.  It was a thought that made Vegeta experience fear on a whole new level.  Although he had never told her, Bulma was his world.  She was the one being in this vast universe who'd had the courage to stand up to the arrogant, self-centered, and violent bastard he'd once been.  She was the first one to not only try and understand his past, but to actually forgive him for his crimes.  She was the first one to ever show him compassion and caring, silently standing by him all these years.  She was the first one to ever love _him_, not his title or his awesome power; no, she loved Vegeta, character flaws, neglect, and all.  Bulma had slowly shown Vegeta how to be the man he should have been if it had not been for Frieza.  Vegeta clenched his fists at his side.  He could not lose her.       

            _Ask yourself instead; what am I going to do when she is ok.  _Dr. Briefs' words of comfort came back to Vegeta right when his despair seemed like it was about to overwhelm him.  Taking a calming breath and looking at his daughter, almost as though he was drawing strength from her, Vegeta decided to take the advice of the man who was the closest thing he had to a father.  Perhaps he should focus on what he would learn from this experience and how he could apply that knowledge.  Satisfied that this train of thought was going to be a much more productive way to pass the excruciatingly slow minutes, Vegeta crossed his arms once again and turned his thoughts inward.

            Bulma groaned in slight pain as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking rapidly as her eyes adjusted to the lighting of the room.  "It's about time you woke that lazy ass of yours up."  A disgruntled voice that could only belong to one man resonated from the right side of her bed.  Smiling weakly at her husband's words, Bulma turned her head to see her mate sitting in a chair by her bedside, a small crib-like structure on wheels next to him.  Vegeta looked at his wife with a deep-set frown, his eyes expressing his concern.  Yawning and slightly stretching, Bulma tried to piece together what had happened since the birth of her daughter.  The events were rather hazy.

            "What happened?  Did I pass out?  I remember being so extremely tired."  Bulma asked in curiosity, her voice sounding rather raspy and weak.  The Saiyan Prince studied his mate and his frown deepened, if that was possible.  His mate looked completely washed out, her normally pale skin a sickly, translucent white.  Huge circles rested under her eyes, showing just how exhausted she was, and wires and needles were hooked up everywhere.  At least she was breathing on her own.

            "I'm not surprised that you don't remember."  Vegeta quipped dryly.  "You almost died."  The prince stated bluntly, having no knack at breaking news gently.  Bulma's eyes immediately widened in shock and slight fear as she whispered out the question of 'what?'  "Some scar in your uterus ruptured while delivering Bra and caused massive hemorrhaging.  That's why you were so weak during the final parts of the birth."  Vegeta paused, knowing Bulma may not want to hear what he had to say next.  "They had to remove your uterus to stop the bleeding and save your life.  I agreed to the operation."

            Bulma's hand unconsciously drifted down to her lower abdomen and she sighed.  Never again would she feel a life stir within her womb.  In some cases, Bulma was extremely saddened by this thought, somehow feeling like less of a woman.  However, the fact that she was alive due to the said loss squashed that sadness quickly.  "I suppose I'll be a little more saddened by the thought of what I have lost in due time.  Yet, I suppose it is a small price to pay to be alive with you, and Trunks, and Bra."  She replied a little melancholy, looking at the hand that covered the stitches adorning her lower stomach.  Bulma then looked over at her husband.  "I'm sorry if I scared everyone.  I'm sorry if I scared you."

            "I am the prince of all Saiyans.  I never get scared."  Vegeta replied with a small smirk, arrogant as always.  Immediately, he regretted the words as he saw the flash of hurt pass through Bulma's eyes.  After everything she had been through, it was no wonder she didn't feel like engaging in their normal banter.  "But, I suppose there is a first time for everything."  He said in a serious voice as way of apology.  Bulma stared up at her husband lovingly, touched by his small admission.

            "Thank you Vegeta."  Bulma whispered, her voice still somewhat raw after its lack of use.  "I love you."  She affirmed, reaching out her hand in a silent request that he hold it since no one else was in the room to see.  Unable to deny her request, Vegeta took her hand in his own and sighed.  Now was as good a time as any.

            "I thought I was going to lose you."  Vegeta stated without any preamble.  Holding up his free hand to silence Bulma when it looked like she was going to speak, he continued.  "This is something I need to say, so let me finish."  The Saiyan Prince instructed through clenched teeth.  Taking a deep breath, Vegeta forced himself to relax and lowered his eyes from his mate.  "When that blasted, woman doctor confirmed my assessment that you could die, I came to realize a few things.  First of all, I came to the harsh reality that if you were to die, you could not be wished back.  This would have been a death by natural causes and you would be lost to me forever.  Secondly, I realized that I was scared to lose you.  It was something I had never truly thought about before until now, and I did not like the feelings it evoked in me.  And lastly, if you were to die, you would leave this Earth without ever hearing any confirmation of my _feelings_ for you."  Vegeta concluded, struggling to get past the word "feelings", almost as though he was angered at himself for his choice of words.  All the while, Bulma looked upon her husband in slight awe, amazed at what he was saying.  Knowing how much it cost her husband to admit to such feelings, Bulma gently squeezed his hand in support, her eyes conveying her love for the man at her side.

            "What I am trying to say," Vegeta said, obviously having some internal struggle, " is that I…I…" The prince stuttered, fighting to bring forth the words he had never been able to speak before to his wife.  Bulma, seeing her mate's struggle and touched by his attempts at voicing his love, took her free hand and placed it over their entwined fingers.

            "Vegeta," Bulma said his name in a hushed voice, drawing Vegeta's eyes back to her face.  "I know."  She said simply.  "I've always known.  I don't need to hear the words to know what you feel."  Instead of calming her agitated husband, as her words were intended to do, Vegeta became more aggravated.

            "No.  It is important on this planet to have one's mate express their feelings for the other in both verbal and non-verbal ways.  After all you have given me, this is the least that I can do for you."  Vegeta replied, his voice gaining confidence.  "I love you."  The Saiyan Prince spoke in a clear, if not slightly rushed voice.  His eyes immediately left his wife's face to stare at his boots, a slight blush covering his tanned cheeks. 

            Hearing those three little words from Vegeta, no matter how many times she had told herself that she did not need to hear them, was the most precious gift (aside from her children) that she had ever received.  Although she knew she would probably never hear those words escape from the prince's lips again, it did not matter.  That small lingering doubt that had endured all these years about whether or not Vegeta did in fact love her vanished without a trace.  Her mate did not take words lightly and if he said something, he meant it.  Biting her lip in an attempt to stop the sob that was rising in her throat, Bulma felt a single tear of joy slide down her face.         

            "Vegeta," Bulma called for her husband, her voice choked with emotion.  "Vegeta please look at me," she pleaded to her embarrassed mate.  Growling softly in defeat, Vegeta dragged his eyes back up to hers.  Seeing the pure joy on his mate's face helped to ease the embarrassment he was feeling over admitting his love of his mate.  Not knowing what to say after such a confession, a comfortable silence fell over the pair, both losing themselves in the eyes of the other.  Finally, Bulma made a small gesture with her hand, motioning for Vegeta to come closer to her.  Using that handy Saiyan speed, Vegeta was at her side in an instant, kissing his mate tenderly.

            "Oh man, get a room!"  A disgusted, yet decidedly amused, sounding voice exclaimed from the doorway of Bulma's room.  Vegeta jumped away from his mate as though she had the plague, and Bulma sighed, knowing that the moment was lost.  Her son had the worst timing ever, but nevertheless, she was excited to see her eldest child.  Dr. and Mrs. Briefs were following right behind, closing the door once again.

            "Sorry if we were interrupting something."  Mrs. Briefs said in a bubbly voice, always excited when she caught her daughter and son-in-law displaying their affection.

            "How are you feeling dear?"  Dr. Briefs asked, finally getting to the point.  Both he and his wife came to stand at the foot of her bed.  His daughter must be feeling somewhat decent if the liplock she and Vegeta were just in was any indication.

            "I'm a little tired daddy, but right now I'd say I've never been better in my life."  Bulma said in all seriousness, sending her mate a wink.  Vegeta immediately bristled, and slid back into his trademark pose of arms planted firmly across his chest.  He let out a huff and took another step away from the bed.  Bulma let out a small laugh at her husband's response.  Typical Vegeta.  "However, I think I'd be even better if I could see both my babies."  Bulma continued, looking over at Bra's crib, which Vegeta had brought in during his observation of his wife's recovery.  Trunks complied without a second thought, anxious to be able to be close to his mother after the close call she'd had.  He scrambled on up next to his mom and gave her a gentle hug, mindful of her midsection.

            "I'm glad you are ok, Mom.  Don't scare me like that again!"  Trunks mumbled into his mother's side.  

            "I promise I won't!"  Bulma replied while returning her son's embrace.  "I love you sweetie."

            "I love you too!"

            "How about you meet your little sister?"  Bulma asked her son once he was disengaged from her arms.  Trunks nodded a little unsurely, a little nervous at how to greet his new sister.  "Vegeta, could you bring her on over?"  The tired mother asked, her voice betraying her exhaustion.  Mumbling softly to himself, Vegeta awkwardly picked the infant out of her crib, awakening her from her slumber.  Walking over to the bed, Vegeta placed the small baby into its mother's waiting arms.  With her eyes opening and closing slowly, Bra let out a small yawn before settling into her mother's warm and gentle embrace.  About to move away from the bed and allow his son to get acquainted with his new sibling, Mrs. Briefs let out a squeal of delight.

            "I forgot I have my camera!"  She exclaimed, pulling the device out of her purse.  Vegeta stopped in mid-stride, looking at the woman like a deer caught in the headlights.  He hated having his picture taken.  Continuing his original plan of leaving the bedside, Mrs. Briefs stopped the Saiyan.

            "Oh no!  Vegeta, you can't leave the shot.  It is your first picture as a complete family!"  The blonde-haired grandmother explained in a slightly whiny voice.  About to protest, Vegeta took one look at the three people occupying Bulma's bed.  Seeing Trunks whisper to his princess about how he would always protect her, since that's what big brother's do, and witnessing the serene look on his mate's face, Vegeta moved back to the bed.  Taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to his mate, Vegeta reached out and touched his daughter's tail.  Perhaps it wouldn't kill him to take this one picture. 

            "You've got one shot, so make it good," Vegeta instructed Bulma's mother and Bulma let out a small chuckle.

            "Ok everyone, look at the camera and smile!"  Mrs. Briefs said, not fazed in the least by Vegeta's comments.  Looking at the camera, Vegeta allowed a small, almost smile to grace his face, and with the press of a button the complete Vegeta-Briefs family was immortalized on film.  

Wow, so perhaps I should have named this chapter: The Longest Chapter Ever!  There was a lot I wanted to cover in this chapter…I just didn't realize how much!  I debated on cutting it into two parts, but I really wanted to end this story at 20 chapters.  Don't ask me why.  It's a nice round number.  Anyway, please let me know what you think!  I put a lot of work into this chapter.  It is hard to write Vegeta's emotions while making him still seem like Vegeta!!!!!  I hope I didn't make him seem too out of character, but I just felt that there had to be a time where he declared his love for Bulma and this is how I envisioned it.

Considering that it is now 2:37 a.m., I am officially spent.  That means that once again, I will not have my review responses up at this time.  I'm sorry!  I'm a bad author, I know.  However, I am so tired right now that all I want to do is have this posted and start my responses tomorrow when I don't think I'll fall asleep at my laptop!  Trust me, though; I will have them out as soon as possible.  Same drill as last time: they will be posted in my bio as well as an updated chapter later on.  Keep your eyes peeled.

Well, I hope you all liked the chapter.  I look forward to hearing from you all!  

Until Next Time… 


	20. A New Beginning

You're What?! Chapter 20: A New Beginning

            Vegeta groaned ever so slightly and rolled over in bed, the resounding wail of his daughter reverberating through the baby monitor.  His hand shot out and started groping the nightstand next to his side of the bed.  After a moment's search, his hand enclosed around the device and he promptly turned down the volume.  Turning back toward his mate, Vegeta slowly opened his eyes.  The first thing he noticed was the huge red numbers of their alarm clock announcing that it was 2:37 in the morning.  His gaze then dropped down to this wife, surprised to still find her asleep.  Normally, when the baby cried Bulma was up instantly, her motherly instincts finely attuned to the needs of her child.  It spoke volumes on how exhausted she must be if she was not awake to tend to Bra.

            Though barely audible through the speaker, Vegeta could still hear the cries of his two-month-old daughter.  Unlike her brother, whom slept like a rock as a baby, Bra was proving to be quite the fickle sleeper.  Sometimes she would go through the night without as much a peep; however, more times than not, she would be awake every other hour demanding the attention of her family.  And truth be told, it was usually Bulma who answered the little princess' call.  Studying his mate's profile in the moonlight, Vegeta noticed the dark circles that adorned her eyes, even in sleep.  She also looked a good deal paler than normal, moonlight aside.  Her breathing was very deep and even, a slight purring snore escaping with each breath that she exhaled.  By the looks of it, his wife was not going to be waking up for anything short of the house blowing up.  Lightly brushing away some of the hair from her face, Vegeta decided to let her sleep.  Dende knew she could definitely use the rest.  Perhaps, just this once, it wouldn't kill him to check up on the little Saiyan Princess.

            Careful not to wake his slumbering mate, Vegeta rolled out of bed and made his way out of the bedroom.  As he walked down the hall, he noticed bright flashes coming from his son's room, the door to the bedroom wide open.  Making a slight detour, Vegeta stuck his head into his heir's room and noticed the television on, clearly showing that Trunks had fallen asleep while watching the ridiculous picture box.  The boy, clad in a pair of black boxers adorned with the Capsule Corp. logo, similar to the one's Vegeta himself was sporting, and a white t-shirt was sprawled out on the top of his bed.  Walking quickly into the room, Vegeta turned off the T.V. and grabbed his son's blanket off the floor.  Trunks was a violent sleeper, notorious for kicking off his covers and ripping off the sheets.  Placing the down comforter back over the sleeping prince, Vegeta looked at the boy before hesitantly brushing away some of his lavender locks from his forehead, much like he had done to Bulma only minutes ago.  His son was adjusting well to having a new baby sister around, not that Vegeta had expected any problems.  The boy was loved, nothing was going to change that, and he knew his son was bright enough to realize that too.  Suddenly, Trunks turned onto his side, facing away from his father and mumbling, "I didn't do it!"  Smirking, Vegeta left his son's room, closing the door behind him.  Even in his dreams his boy was getting into trouble.

            Moving on to his final destination, Vegeta opened up the door to his princess' nursery.  Instantly, he was greeted with the troubled wails of his daughter.  Stepping into the room, the Saiyan Prince made his way over to the crib and stared down at Bra.  Her eyes were tightly shut, her face red and flushed.  Her small hands were balled into tiny fists that were shaking back and forth madly.  Vegeta smirked, his little girl wasn't getting attention and she certainly did not like it!

            "And why are you making all this racket?"  He asked to the crying baby, his deep and husky voice catching the attention of his daughter.  Blinking rapidly, the infant's wails quieted into small whimpers as she looked up at her father.  Since she was born, one thing had become apparent rather quickly: Bra loved the sound of her father's voice.  No matter how much of a fit the young babe may be throwing, a few words from Vegeta was usually all it took to calm her down.  Reaching down into the crib, Vegeta picked Bra up.  Over the past two months, Vegeta had become more accustomed to handling the newborn baby; however, he still avoided having to do so whenever possible.  Hence, he still looked rather awkward whenever he held his little girl.  Settling Bra in the crook of his arm, Vegeta took a seat on the rocking chair Bulma had placed in the room next to the crib and began rocking slowly.

            "So princess," Vegeta began his one-sided conversation with his daughter, using the girl's title unconsciously, "what is the matter with you?  I know you can't be hungry; your mother just fed you a little over an hour ago.  So that leaves one of two options," the rocking father spoke to his daughter softly, who was now watching her dad with rapt attention.  "The first option is that you have a wet diaper, and if that is the case, you are out of luck kid.  I don't do diapers.  The second option is that you were lonely in here all by yourself and decided that you'd take advantage of the fact that you are a spoiled brat who knows someone always comes to your beck-and-call."  Vegeta gave a snort of amusement as Bra gurgled happily and waved a fist about in the air.  Something was telling the prince that the latter scenario was the one that was coming into play here.  If there was one thing that Vegeta was learning it was that Bra Vegeta Briefs had her family wrapped around her tiny finger.

            Knowing that he wouldn't be able to leave the room until Bra was asleep, Vegeta continued rocking.  Vegeta couldn't help but smirk as he looked down at his now complacent daughter.  His princess, at the tender age of two months, was already beautiful.  He had no doubts that she was going to look exactly like her mother, especially after he had seen a picture of Bulma when she was a baby and compared it to his own buddle of joy.  Feather light, Vegeta ran his hand over the small tuff of blue hair gracing the babe's head and slowly ran a finger down the side of her face.  Although her eyes were still that vague color all babies are born with, slight signs of crystal blue were beginning to come forth.  She was perfect, that's all there was to it. 

            Vegeta didn't quite know how long he sat there basking in the beauty of his daughter, but he was eventually reminded that he had a duty to perform.  More and more insistently, Bra began squirming about and making slight noises of protest.  Apparently, she was getting rather discontent that her father was no longer talking to her.  The princely fighter shook his head in disbelief.  There was no doubting it that this little one was a princess through and through.  She already knew how to get precisely what she wanted, and she couldn't even talk yet!  Vegeta felt a fleeting moment of dread at that thought.  From the moment he first laid eyes on her, Vegeta was resigned to the fate that he was completely enthralled with his daughter.  Anything she wanted, she would get.  He would be sure of it.  She already had him doing things Vegeta had never even attempted to do with Trunks when he was still an infant.  Thus, he knew the situation would only get worse as Bra grew older.  When did it happen that the prince of all Saiyans became a pushover?  Vegeta lightly frowned at that thought as he shifted the squirming princess to his other arm and sighed.

            "All right, you can settle down now.  I got the message."  Vegeta clipped out, annoyance heard in his voice.  The babe nestled in his arms immediately caught the change in her father's demeanor and reacted in the only way she knew how:  she let out a shrill cry.  Wincing at the sound his daughter emitted, Vegeta immediately started to rock the chair.  "Bra, I'm not mad at you."  He announced to the baby in a calm voice, cradling the infant closer to his body.  "Come on little one, Saiyans don't cry."  After a few more moments of mindless condolences, Bra's cries subsided and she snuggled back into her father's arms.  Now that he had his little girl's attention again, Vegeta frantically wondered what he was going to talk to the girl about.

            "I'm not good at stuff like this."  Vegeta stated to his captivated audience.  "I don't do stories, princess."  Right as the word "princess" left his mouth, Vegeta suddenly had an amazing idea of how to keep his daughter entertained.  Talking a deep breath, Vegeta began speaking again.  However, to anyone on Earth, the words spilling forth from his lips would have sounded like gibberish for Vegeta was speaking the native tongue of his home planet.  It wasn't often that the Saiyan Prince even used his dead language, yet, he knew Bra didn't know what he was saying one way or another.  She was just listening to the inflection of his voice, nothing more.  Hence, Vegeta started telling his daughter about her heritage.  He talked about his life in the palace, the protocols of the royal family, and the customs of the Saiyan people.  All the while, Bra watched her father almost unblinking; mesmerized by the throaty, growling language he was now using.

            After finishing the story about his first kill ever, Vegeta paused and looked at the wall clock situated right above the door and was surprised to see that he had been talking to Bra for well over an hour now.  The prince blinked at that.  It wasn't often that he lost track of time.  Usually, the only time that happened was when he was engaging in activities that created such things as the little buddle encased in his arms.  Vegeta smirked at that thought.  His wife's recovery from the childbirth and her surgery were almost complete.  As soon as she got the go ahead from the doctor, Vegeta planned on sending the kids off to spend time with their grandparents, locking the woman in their bedroom and making up for lost time.  The sexually frustrated husband let out a low growl.  Those doctors better hurry up and give his mate a clean bill of health soon, or else he wouldn't be held accountable for his actions.

            A small grunt snapped Vegeta back to reality, his thoughts of bedding Bulma put on hold for the moment.  Looking down at Bra, Vegeta saw an extreme look of concentration upon the girl's face.  His eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what the little spoiled brat was up to now.  Another little groan escaped from the small infant and Vegeta was greeted with a rather unpleasant odor.  Disgusted, Vegeta stood up and put the baby on her changing table, not wanting to hold the girl while she did her business.  The warrior watched over Bra, a frown adorning his face.  After a moment or two, the look of concentration left her face.  Vegeta was about to go back over to replace the girl in her crib and make a hasty get away, when the baby took a deep breath before letting out a wail of discomfort.

            "Great," Vegeta mumbled under his breath as he looked down at the crying, thrashing baby.  What was he supposed to do now?  Well, one thing was for sure.  He wasn't changing any diapers.  The best thing to do would probably be to go get Bulma.  Satisfied with that option, Vegeta approached his daughter warily before slowly reaching on down and picking her up under the arms.  With his thumbs hooked under her armpits and the rest of his hands supporting her head, Vegeta held Bra at arms length.  Holding his breath as though the child was emitting toxic fumes, Vegeta gently placed the girl back in her crib.  Hurrying out into the hall, Vegeta shut the door to the nursery, effectively shutting out the wails of his daughter.  Using his incredible speed, Vegeta was back in his bedroom in a flash.

            Walking over to the bed with purpose, Vegeta looked down at his mate and sighed.  She looked so peaceful, more so than she had in a while.  At that moment, Bulma turned in the bed, her arm reaching out onto her husband's side of the bed.  "Vegeta," the name escaped her lips, nothing more than a peaceful sigh.  Vegeta turned his eyes skyward and groaned.  Could he really wake her up?  Two years ago, he would have said hell yes.  Now, though, he knew he cared more about her needs than he did his own.  Giving his wife one more look over, Vegeta turned to leave.

            "You owe me woman," he whispered to his slumbering mate as he opened the door and left once again.  He didn't notice Bulma stir slightly in the bed, nor did he notice her eyes slowly flutter open.  Blinking away some of the sleep from her eyes, Bulma looked around the room in a daze.  The first thing she noticed was that Vegeta was not on his side of the bed, and he was not in the bathroom.  Turning her head to look at the alarm clock, Bulma realized that it was still just a tad bit early for her husband to be training, unless something was bothering him.  A flash of worry stabbed through Bulma.  Perhaps her mate had had a nightmare.  Even though they were almost non-existent now, unlike when Vegeta first came to stay at Capsule Corporation, her mate, on occasion, still suffered through violent nightmares.  Sometimes it was reliving a hellish moment with Frieza, other times it was reliving one of his deaths.  Whatever it happened to be that he dreamt about, Vegeta understandable woke up shaken and unable to return to the land of slumber.  Hence, instead of wasting time in bed, Vegeta would get up and work off his tension.

            Groaning as she rolled on out of bed, Bulma walked over to her dressing table to grab her favorite white, terry-cloth robe.  Distractedly tying the belt, Bulma walked back over to the bed to put on her slippers for her journey to the Gravity Room.  It was once she was back by the bed that she heard a slight noise coming from Vegeta's side.  Looking over on her husband's nightstand she saw the cause of the slight murmuring sound: the baby monitor.  Crawling over the huge king-sized bed, Bulma picked up the monitor and quickly turned up the volume.  Why would it be turned down in the first place?  With the volume restored to a pitch clearly audible to human ears, Bulma was greeted with the disgruntled cries of her daughter.

            "Oh no!"  Bulma gasped, wondering how long her little one had been screaming for attention.  Flustered, Bulma was about to put down the monitor when the voice of her AWOL husband came through the speaker.

            "Give me a minute will you?  I can't get this stupid thing off if you keep moving like that!"  Vegeta instructed the small infant in a slightly exasperated voice.  Bulma thought she was going to drop the device in her hand at the sound of her mate's voice.  Vegeta had gone to take care of the baby for her so that she could sleep?  That was so incredibly sweet!  Clutching the baby monitor to her chest, Bulma broke out into an affectionate smile, her eyes literally shining with love and gratitude.  Now matter how long she lived with the man, that pesky prince she called a mate always managed to surprise her.  Bulma's adoring thoughts on her husband were quickly put on the back burner when a small gagging sound came from the monitor.

            "Dende, girl!  How can someone so small and delicate create something so hideously foul?"  Vegeta's voice once again graced the ears of his mate.  Bulma giggled at the slightly pinched off and nasal-like quality of his voice.  She could just picture the normally stoic prince standing over Bra at the changing table, holding his nose with one hand as he desperately tried to remove the offending object into its proper receptacle.  Bra must have also found the situation funny for at that moment a small laugh accompanied by a squeal of delight came through the speaker.  Bulma placed the monitor closer to her ear in an attempt to hear the low mumbling that that definitely belonged to her husband.  Apparently he wasn't finding the situation to be as humorous as his princess.  Oblivious to her father's displeasure, other happy squeaks and babbles could be heard from their daughter.  Now that the felonious diaper had been removed, all was right again in the babe's world.

            "I'm glad you are having such a wonderful time," Vegeta's sarcastic reply to the baby's banter came through loud and clear.  It was quickly followed by a groan of frustration.  "Why won't you stay on?"  Some rustling was heard through the monitor, and it was obvious that her mate was addressing the new diaper.  Slowly shaking her head at the antics of her husband, Bulma placed the baby monitor down and rolled back off the bed.  Exiting the room and padding quietly on down the hall, Bulma peaked her head on into the open door of the nursery.  There she found Vegeta attempting to pull one of the sticky tabs of the diaper off the plastic outer covering.  During his struggles, the tab had folded under and was now stuck to the same side of the diaper, thus, incapable of being able to secure the diaper closed.  Bra watched her dad in fascination, wriggling around on the table and enjoying her freedom from the confines of a diaper.  Surrounding the dynamic duo was a cloud of baby powder.  Only Dende knows how much Vegeta had put on the girl's behind to form that big of a cloud.

            "Whatcha doing, Vegeta?"  Bulma asked with a small smile, leaning against the doorway of the nursery.  Vegeta shot his mate a quick glare over his shoulder.

            "What does it look like I am doing?"  He snapped, embarrassed at being caught in an attempt to do something nice.  He then let out a small sneeze due to the powder surrounding him.  Desperate to get rid of the itch his nose was feeling, Vegeta gave his nose a quick rub with his hand, unintentionally wiping some of the powder onto his face.

            "Well," Bulma replied with a laugh, "it looks like you are fighting with a disposable diaper…and losing."  

            "Whoever invented these blasted things needs to be shot."  Vegeta ranted, totally ignoring Bulma's previous comment.  "This stupid sticky tape stuff on the side is attached to the diaper and I can't get it off."  Walking over to her agitated mate, Bulma gently took the diaper out of his hand.  Gingerly, she pealed the tape back from the plastic; however, just when it looked like she was going to completely free the adhesive, the plastic ripped and remained on the tape.  Bulma's face fell into a frown and Vegeta threw his wife a look that pretty much asked what they should do next.

            "I almost had it," Bulma lamented for a moment, and then she let out a giggle.  "I guess we will have to admit defeat."  Opening up the diaper pail, Bulma dropped in the ripped diaper and grabbed a new one from off the shelf.  "I'll take over from here, if you don't mind that is."  The blue-haired mother stated with a smile.  Vegeta motioned towards his daughter with both arms.

            "By all means, Bulma, have at it."  Vegeta quipped, glad his one and _only_ diaper changing experience was now over.  He then watched in amazement as his wife opened up the new diaper.  Then, in four deft moves that took less than thirty seconds, Bulma had Bra clothed in the clean diaper.  After snapping back up the infant's pajamas, Bulma picked up her carbon copy and turned around in triumph.  Immediately the scientist bit her lip in an attempt to stifle a laugh as she got her first good luck at her mate.  Vegeta stood next to his daughter's crib, a look of slight awe on his face.  Unbeknownst to him, also on his face was a splash of white across the bridge of his nose from the baby powder.

            "How did you manage to do that so fast?  That little monster won't stay still for more than two seconds," Vegeta asked his wife as she joined his side, gently placing Bra back within the confines of her crib.  Winding up her old mobile, Bulma turned towards her husband, the sound of  "Hush Little Baby" twinkling throughout the room.

            "I'm a mother, Vegeta.  I've had plenty of practice."  She replied with a small smirk.  "If you want to be as fast and adept as me, you'll have to do a lot more practicing."

            "Well, it will be a cold day in hell when that happens.  This was a once in a lifetime thing, Bulma."  The Saiyan warrior responded with no room for argument.  Bulma just let out a small laugh and stepped closer to her husband, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder.  Both parents looked down at the little life they created, fully content with life.  Below them, Bra watched the animals hovering above her with eyes that were definitely attempting to fight off the call of sleep.  After a few more minutes, the baby's eyes started closing and opening slowly before finally fluttering shut and remaining that way.

            "She's so peaceful when she sleeps, isn't she Vegeta?"  Bulma whispered to her husband, careful not to wake her finally sleeping daughter.  Vegeta slipped an arm around his wife's waste, holding her more securely to his side.

            "Just like her mother," was the unexpected response that Bulma received.  Tilting her head up to gaze up into her mate's slightly powdered face; Bulma reached up on her tiptoes and kissed Vegeta full on the lips.  Eager for the affections of his wife, Vegeta pulled his mate around so that they stood face to face as he returned the impassioned kiss.  He pulled her flush against his body, his hands running down her sides, "accidentally" brushing across her slightly swollen breasts.  A low, heady moan inadvertently escaped from Bulma.  Realizing that they were still in their princess' room, Bulma reluctantly pulled away from her excited mate.  Looking down at his flushed mate with hungry eyes, Vegeta held the woman within his grasp and proceeded to kiss along her jaw-line and on down her throat.  

            "Oh, Vegeta," Bulma began breathlessly, uncertain on what she could say to stop her mate's ministrations.  Taking her sigh as a sign of consent, Vegeta once again began trailing his hands along her body and Bulma had half a mind to let him continue.  She knew she wasn't allowed to have intercourse quite yet; however, that didn't mean she couldn't at least be pleasured and give back as good as she got.  Finally though, as she bit back another moan, Bulma came up with something that would at least give Vegeta pause.  "Thank you."  She whispered in his ear, surprised at how calm her voice sounded.  Sure enough, Vegeta pulled back, unsure of what his mate was thanking him for.  Seizing the opportunity, Bulma separated the bodies, without breaking out of Vegeta's grasp completely.  Seeing the slight confusion flash through his lustful eyes, Bulma smiled softly.  "For taking care of Bra.  You were here for quite some time, weren't you?"

            "It was no problem.  And, no, I wasn't here long."  Vegeta answered hastily, not interested in hearing Bulma's words of gratitude.  She could show him how thankful she was.  About to continue his assault on her slender neck, Bulma surprised him by wriggling out of his grasp and zipping on over to the rocking chair.  Sitting down in the padded chair, Bulma looked up at her husband with a sly smile.

            "You weren't here for long, eh?"  Bulma asked her mate, who blushed slightly in embarrassment.

            "What does it matter how long I was here for?"  Vegeta snapped defensively.  Bulma got back up from the chair and walked back over to her slightly agitated husband.

            "It matters to me.  You went out of your way to stay with Bra just so I could rest.  I think that is the sweetest thing you have ever done for me."  Bulma explained.  Seeing that her mate did not like the idea of having done something construed as "sweet", the blue-haired genius added one more statement.  "Besides," she said in a low, seductive voice, pressing back up against her mate, "I find it very sexy to see a man of your power being so gentle with our child."  At that unexpected comment, Vegeta arched an eyebrow and smirked down at his mate.  Giving his princess one last glance to make sure she was all settled in, Vegeta swiftly picked up his woman and carried her out of the nursery and into the hall.  Closing the door, the Saiyan Prince pinned his wife up against the wall next to the door.

            "Sexy, huh?  Just how sexy do you find that?"  Vegeta inquired of his mate in an equally low and husky voice.  

            "I find it very, _very_ sexy," Bulma replied breathlessly as she placed her lips over his own.  As their tongues battled, Bulma wrapped one leg around Vegeta's waist in an attempt to pull him closer.  Letting out a low groan at the action, Vegeta once again began trailing his hands over his mate's body, not hesitating this time to pay particular attention to her voluptuous breasts.  

            "Oh for the love of all that is pure," A slightly disgruntled, disgusted, and sleepy voice cried out.  Both Bulma and Vegeta turned their heads to see their son walking down the hallway towards them.  Trunks put a hand over his eyes as he came closer to the pair, not wanting to see his mother's leg wrapped around his father's waist.  And he especially didn't need to see anymore of his father's hands upon his mother's…um…upper chest.  The entwined pair watched as their son past right on by them without a second glance.  "Can't a kid get a mid-night snack without being scarred for life?"  The lavender-haired boy questioned sarcastically as he made it to the stairs and proceeded to disappear.  Once the boy was out of sight, Bulma looked up at her husband and blushed.  Vegeta, on the other hand, grinned evilly.

            "As much fun as it is to torture the boy, I think we should continue this elsewhere."  Vegeta stated.  The still somewhat flustered Bulma, nodded slightly.  Granted, Trunks had never caught her and Vegeta having full-blown sex; however, she always felt horrible when her little boy caught his parents in a compromising situation.  Noticing that he now had a distracted mate, Vegeta once again lifted the small woman into his arms and began to carry her on back to their room.  As his wife curled into his chest, Vegeta once again thanked whatever god it was that had decided to let this little, spirited Earthling into his life.  The Saiyan Prince did not think he would ever figure out what he had ever done to deserve the life that he now had, but he would be forever grateful that he was given it.  Vegeta could not fathom how he could have ever spurned this sort of lifestyle in the past.  To actually live in peace, to have a mate who was completely devoted to you, and to have children that loved you with everything they had; these things were not weak, they were empowering.

            Entering the bedroom he had shared with his mate for almost twelve years, Vegeta placed his precious cargo gently on the huge bed in the center of the room.  With the door closed and firmly locked, the Saiyan prince crawled over his mate and gazed down at her face, reveling in her beauty.  With this woman he had created a family, something he never thought he would have.  A piece of them would always live on through their slumbering infant and the traumatized boy in the kitchen.  It was a thought that made Vegeta fill with pride.  They were his legacy, the continuation of his royal linage.  He had watched his son grow in a fine young man, a capable warrior, over these past ten years.  It was a humbling, yet exhilarating, thought to know that he'd had some influence, and would continue to have influence, on how his heir turned out.  Vegeta couldn't wait to see the man his son would become.  Now, Vegeta had yet another young one to help raise, a chance to correct the mistakes he'd made with Trunks.  Already, only two months into her life, Vegeta had seen his daughter grow and adapt to the world around her tremendously.  And to think, this was only the beginning: a new beginning.  Imagine all the things he would see as she grew.  The Saiyan Prince did not know what the future held, but for the first time in his life, he was excited to find out.  One thing was for sure, things would definitely be interesting with two rambunctious brats running around.

Bulma interrupted her husband's thoughts as she pulled his face to her own and softly kissed him on the lips.  Vegeta returned the kiss gently.  He had the rest of his life to contemplate on the future.  Right now, he was going to live in the present and see where things led.

**The End.**

Tada!  That's the end of the story everyone!  I hope you all enjoyed it.  I know I have had a blast writing it!  I just want to thank everyone who has stuck with this story.  I also want to say thank you for the tremendous feedback I received on Chapter 19.  I'm so glad that so many of you liked that chapter!  Personally, it is my favorite.  Hopefully, you all liked this chapter just as much.  I know it has been awhile since my last update and I apologize.  I'm sooooooooo sorry!!!!!!!!  I'll explain why my update took so long, as well as why I have not done any reviewer responses for the last two chapters.

On February 19th I am going to be moving from my home in Michigan to live all by myself in Kentucky.  I received a job offer and will be starting my exciting, college degree-using career next Monday.  So, needless to say, I have been swamped in trying to prepare for my move!  I never realized how much stuff you need to do when you move into a place of your own!  Anyway, wish me luck. 

As for the sequel (which has a working title of **_Life's Little Lessons_**), I will be starting that as soon as I get some free time.  I am hoping to have the first chapter up by early March at the latest…but don't be mad if I'm a little off in my estimate.  I don't know how bogged down I will be at work.  So, despite my uncertainty in an exact date of publication, please keep your eyes peeled for the next installment of  _You're What?!_  I'd love to hear from all of you!

Once again, thank you all around.  I don't think I can say it enough.  Everyone has been so kind and has truly increased my interest in continuing my fan fiction writing.  I hope to hear from all of you soon, and expect to hear from me because, believe it or not, I am still going to try and get these responses up.  I don't want anyone to feel like I don't read his or her reviews.  I have read and been touched by them all!  Ok, now that I am getting extremely sappy, I shall say TTFN.

Until Next Time…  


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